


Kyōto

by ImperialMint



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco is the protector of a hidden world, one created out of necessity and love. As much as he loves the Mirror World, Marco doesn't feel he belongs, and he needs to return to his birth world. A storm unlike any other brings Ace literally crashing into his life, and that's when everything begins to change. This isn't the story of unlikely heroes and fights for control. This is the story of finding and accepting love, no matter what form it's in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Present I [Marco]

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: (past) attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mention of war/massacre, violence, minor character death.
> 
> Based on the anime Kyousougiga, which I think everyone should watch. Absolutely gorgeous animation and really nice characters. This story was born out of shipping two of the characters, realising I wanted them to actually get together, but not being able to give up writing Marco and Ace.
> 
> I have a lot of thanks to give out with this story. First of all I want to thank my amazing partner for this story, [ohhhnnooo](http://ohhhnnooo.tumblr.com/), for drawing some of the most gorgeous art I've ever seen for this story. I don't think I'd have been able to complete this project without your support, and I've had so much fun working with you. Thank you! The [art](http://ohhhnnooo.tumblr.com/post/115241880744/uwah-heres-my-piece-for-the-one-piece-big-bang) can be found here.
> 
> I also have to give a big thank you to [lunarshores](http://lunarshores.tumblr.com/) for betaing this story mainly, but also for taking the reins of the event while I was swimming around waterfalls counting fish species. You've been a massive pillar of support and this story would never be half of what it is without you.
> 
> I also want to say a final thank you to everyone participating in this year's opbigbang. It's been a lot of work for all of us and I'm so excited to be kicking this event off. I hope I haven't scared you off with the massive word count and effort it takes to participate in a big bang, and thank you so much for completing the first run of this event with me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story, feedback - including concrit - is always very welcome.

Cicadas chirp outside as Marco moves through his home. It’s a hot day, and he fans himself with a hand, glad he chose today to hang his kimonos out to dry. He doesn’t have any duties to attend to, so there is no need for his usual attire, and Marco bites into a chunk of juicy watermelon as he looks out at the line of blue kimonos hanging in his garden.

He wipes juices away from his mouth with the back of his hand and stand, collecting his watermelon rinds and moving to the kitchen. The sound of claws against the floor follow him, and Marco glances down, raising an eyebrow as Thatch sits, wagging his tail and panting, fully expecting a reward for following Marco.

“You’re a terrible dog,” Marco mutters, but he throws Thatch a piece of watermelon anyway. He tidies the rest of the melon away, fingers lingering against the hilt of the knife he used before he hurries to place it in the dishwasher.

It’s strange, Marco thinks, to have a day free. Usually, he’d be with his master, watching over their world and its people. There are only two of them, him and a man who goes by the name of Whitebeard. They’ve worked together for a long, long time now, and Marco is fond of Whitebeard, in the way a child becomes fond of an adoptive parent. Perhaps Marco could have loved him if not for… well.

He shakes his head. Today isn’t a day to think of that, Marco decides, and he closes the dishwasher, moving to check on the kimonos outside. It is very hot, and they might have dried already – or so Marco hopes.

A strange, worm-like object floats through the sky, pulsing rainbow colours. Marco pays it no more than a cursory glance, used to the oddities of this world. If it exists, by any stretch of the imagination, then this world has it, he has come to learn.

He is fond of this world too, though less than he is of Whitebeard. Marco also hates this world, but that’s because he knows what other worlds exist. His nights are full of dreams of the other world (the real world, his mind whispers sometimes, when the world is dark), and Marco knows that he’ll return to his birth universe one day. That isn’t an option.

The kimonos are still a little damp. Marco turns them, checking the fabric tenderly, though they won’t have any tears or faults. Nothing in this world stays broken, after all.

As if to prove his point, Thatch barrels into one of the cabinets inside, knocking down a picture of Marco and Whitebeard. The portrait falls to the ground and smashes, but Marco simply watches it without emotion. It’s smashed so many times before that he really should think about finding another place for the picture, but it just seems worthless.

Right before Marco’s eyes, the picture frame mends itself, glass melting seamlessly back in place. It even floats up to rest back against a vase of flowers, and Marco turns away, frown on his face.

This place doesn’t feel real, he thinks. It’s what Marco’s always thinks. This world is too perfect, too tidy, and too convenient. Nothing ever breaks; the world keeps on running and would keep on going regardless of what Marco and Whitebeard did.

The last kimono is dry, and Marco makes a snap decision. Usually on his days off he keeps to his house, haunting the rooms like a ghost, but he’s decided against that today. He feels too restless and knows he needs to get out. Thatch seems to like the idea too, bouncing around his ankles as Marco dresses. His kimono is simple, a light blue fading to a darker blue, but it marks him as the Priest he is. It’s his uniform, essentially.

With a gurgling roar, Marco’s moped comes to life. Thatch barks as a cloud of smoke pumps out the back, but there is no need to worry. If the moped breaks, the world will fix it. It’s as simple as that.

They set out slowly (not that the moped can go that quickly anyway), with Thatch keeping pace easily at a trot. They head down cobbled roads and pass people and creatures alike, the sun brilliant and golden overhead. It’s is a picturesque day, and Marco wishes there was someone other than his dog there to enjoy it with him.

Thatch knows where they’re heading, and he takes off as they get closer. Marco wouldn’t worry even if Thatch did get lost – the dog’s been with him for decades. He was born, like Marco, in the real world, and Marco wonders if he too was given the devil’s power.

Marco grits his teeth and takes a deep breath in, trying to focus on something other than that man. He’s almost at the shrine, almost with Shanks. What he needs is company, not to dwell on the past or his present duties.

Shanks is waiting for him, one hand buried in Thatch’s fur. The shrine is a little shabby; it always has been, but it’s a popular one, dedicated to fox spirits if Marco’s knowledge on the place is correct. There aren’t any statues, but a stone tablet with foxes and an ancient language carved upon it stand in the centre of the shrine, so Marco doesn’t think he’s too out there with his assumption.

“Phoenix,” Shanks says, nodding respectfully. Thatch climbs the stairs behind them, and Marco brings his moped closer.

“It’s good to see you,” Marco replies and notices that they are not alone today. A few other people are enjoying the shrine, as well as some strange looking creatures. Marco nods to the ones who greet him, though he doesn’t leave Shanks. He’s not on business today.

Shanks has always been a good friend to Marco. Marco doesn’t have many people he considers friends – there’s Whitebeard and Thatch, of course, but that’s it really – but Shanks is the only one he made by choice. Whitebeard and he share duties (and if not for those duties, Whitebeard wouldn’t even be here) and Thatch… well, Thatch is a dog, even if he is an extremely intelligent dog. Shanks is the only one he could really choose, and they get on well.

“Day off today?” Shanks asks, and Marco inclines his head. Marco wouldn’t be here at this time of day if he is on duty. 

“Felt like getting out of the house,” Marco replies, sitting on the shine steps and closing his eyes. It’s peaceful here, and he always seeks solitude on the steps of the shrine.

Shanks hums to himself. Marco thinks he oversees the shrine, but he’s never been too sure. He doubts Shanks knows what he does. He’s a man who does what he wants, and that sees to suit him just fine.

“You look restless,” Shanks comments, and Marco shrugs his shoulders. He is restless, but he doesn’t know why. “Is something going to happen?”

Shanks actually sounds worried at that, and Marco cracks an eye open. He doesn’t know why Shanks is worrying. Nothing irreversible happens around here, though usually Marco gets this sort of mood when the station opens. The station won’t open for another few months yet, so his unease is a mystery still.

“Who knows,” Marco says, closing his eye again and letting the nearby birdsong wash over him. He can feel Shanks move away and soon hears him talking to some young girls, helping them to choose what charm they wished to impart good luck upon.

He lets the sound of his world take him away, back to the place he’d been born. He doesn’t remember much of it anymore, but what Marco can remember fills him with terror or excitement. He would love to see that world again, live in that world where he should belong but knows it is impossible. He does not have the power to leave this world. The one who did is long gone.

“This shrine is for you, you know,” Shanks says, throwing something round and solid onto Marco’s lap. His hands move to cup the object, and he stills when his fingers touch pulpy flesh.

Shanks doesn’t know, Marco tells himself as he looks down at the ruby seeds. They look juicy and ripe, tempting, and he feels entranced by the pomegranate half Shanks gave him. Shanks is busy picking out the seeds himself and smiles when he notices Marco glancing at him.

“They’re my favourite. Everyone seems to have caught onto that, and they give me gifts.” Shanks laughs. “I have too many now!”

Marco nods, tension easing from his shoulders. He pokes a few of the pomegranate seeds before he raises the fruit to his lips, biting into the flesh whole. Shanks gives him a horrified look, which is probably deserved because pomegranate flesh is disgusting, and Marco’s face wrinkles before he swallows his mouthful a little painfully.

“Do you have any water?” he says, and Shanks laughs, shaking his head. He runs up the stairs to the little hut that sits at the top of the shrine, and Marco sighs. He’ll never taste the sweetness of life again, no matter how many pomegranates he bites into.

Thatch makes an appearance at Marco’s side, laying his head in Marco’s lap with a whine. Marco reaches out a hand to scratch Thatch’s head, knocking the pomegranate to the ground in the process. Thatch leaps on it eagerly, something that Marco doesn’t mind. He was only going to let the rest of the fruit go to waste anyway.

“Here,” Shanks says when he returns, holding out a bottle of water. He fans himself, looking up at the sun, and Marco follows his gaze. There are some creatures in the sky twirling around on high winds. They look joyful, and Marco takes in a deep breath.

No matter how much he may want to leave, he does love this world. It is his home, the only safe home he really remembers, but if he was ever given the chance to leave, Marco knows he would have hesitations.

“Thanks,” Marco says, standing. “We should go drinking again soon,” he continues, moving to his moped. Shanks nods slowly, waving him and Thatch off as they begin their journey home.

When he arrives back home, Marco sets about collecting his kimonos. He tidies the house (not that it was messy before) and checks the time. It’s evening now, and he can call it a reasonable time to start dinner, so he does, working in silence the entire time.

The weather has closed in while Marco’s been cooking, and he shuts his doors to the world. He can still see, he keeps the shutters off for now, and he watches the sky darken, clouds covering the moon and stars. The air seems still, and Marco tightens his fist, ruby beads slipping over his left wrist and palm, his power fizzing under his skin. Something is about to happen, and Marco isn’t sure what it will mean for their world.

Everything seems to pause for a moment, before a huge flash of lightning illuminates the gathered clouds. Thunder follows quickly and the entire sky erupts in forks of lightning.

Marco curses, hurrying to the door. He shoves he first pair of shoes on he can and hurries to his moped. Rain begins to pour down, and it’s not long before Marco is soaked to the skin. He is cold, but he presses on still. He can’t worry about being dry: he has to get to the temple for now. Something this serious will need his and Whitebeard’s guidance.

The very earth seems to shake, before everything grows still once more. Marco can sense it isn’t over, though, and he peers into the clouds, trying to see what is happening. The hairs all over his body begin to stand on end, and Marco sucks in a breath, a huge fork of lightning striking the highest point of the city, the sacred temple where Marco and Whitebeard govern over the city.

It feels as though the very life is pushed out of Marco as the lightning hits the tower, and he slides off of his moped, cracking his head against the pavement. He groans, trying to right himself as his vision blurs, life threatening injuries healing until all evidence of his crash Marco has left is a slight red patch of skin.

His moped is damaged and, for some reason, refusing to mend. He leaves it at the side of the road, eager to get to the temple. He isn’t far now, and it takes him less than 10 minutes to reach the base of the temple. Marco pauses, breathing heavily, and looks up at the sky.

The sky is clearing already, Marco notices. Whatever the storm had brought (and there is no doubt in Marco’s mind that the storm did bring something to this world), it was here. It was now Marco’s duty to see what this thing was. If it was harmful, he’d be able to protect his people. His power bubbles through his body as he enters the temple, red beads clunking together as he moves quickly to the lift.

When he reaches the temple base, Marco is surprised by what he sees. The base is an open space that overlooks the entire city, and serves as a meeting point for Whitebeard and Marco before they enter the actual temple space. They are the only two who have the power to enter the temple, which is why Marco is surprised to see the portal they use – a circle in the centre of the open space – lit up, as if they were about to enter.

What is more surprising is the three forms laying near the portal, and Marco uses his power to close the temple doors, hurrying over to the person. The person looks to be a young male, accompanied by two fox-like creatures. He doesn’t appear to be hurt, though Marco wonders how someone can survive such a severe lightning strike, but does appear to be unconscious.

“Did he summon the storm?” a deep voice behind Marco says, and he shakes his head at Whitebeard.

“He’s not of our world,” Marco says with confidence, looking up as Whitebeard towers over him, thoughtful look on his face. “The storm was our world’s way of protecting itself against outsiders.”

Whitebeard crouched down, a hand reaching for the pale blue fox-creature at the man’s side. It jumped up suddenly, mouth opening impossibly widely and snapping at Whitebeard. It seemed electrified, body emitting a strange light, some odd power letting it move through air as if it was walking on land.

“Get back!” it barks, voice electrified and teeth snapping. Its red companion leaps up too, both creatures hovering over the man protectively. Whitebeard lowers his hand and takes a slow step back.

The creatures turn to him, beady eyes narrowing before the red one snorts, more interested in trying to wake the man instead of chasing Marco away. Marco looks at Whitebeard, who simply tilts his head and looks at Marco with the wisdom of many decades.

“He’ll stay with you,” Whitebeard says, voice carrying a note of finality, and Marco feels as if he’s a child again. He looks up at Whitebeard, hundreds of reasons on his lips for why this man staying with him would be a bad idea, but Marco can see it will be useless. 

“He’ll stay with me,” Marco agrees, looking down as the red creature steps close, sniffing at him curiously. It doesn’t seem to mean any harm, and the blue one joins in soon, both of them sniffing at Marco and clambering around him.

That seems to be all Whitebeard needs, for he turns to leave. He no doubt has work to do in the labs, so Marco lets him go, a larger issue to deal with right in front of him. Whoever this man is, he’s someone who needs to be kept under a watchful gaze, and Marco has no intention of letting this man loose into his world if he could harm people.

The man groans suddenly, pushing himself up off of the floor slowly and into a sitting position. Instantly, the creatures flock to his side, whizzing around the man, checking every inch of him to make sure he is okay.

Ugh,” he groans, and the creatures are making a ridiculous noise of joy. “Will you two shut it?”

He doesn’t look like much of a threat, Marco decides, and he frowns, trying to place the man. He seems familiar, though there is no way Marco has met him before, and he simply waits for the man to notice him.

“Oh,” the man says, eyes widening when he catches Marco’s gaze. He stands quickly, brushing his pets (or whatever they are) away and bowing smartly. “Sorry to have caused all that trouble.”

Marco is a little taken aback, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, the man takes it upon himself to continue the conversation.

“I’m Ace,” he says, standing up straight, hands falling to his sides to bump his pets on the head. “These are my familiars, Sabo and Luffy.”

As their names are spoken, each of the creatures turn into teenagers, beaming brightly. It isn’t what Marco is expecting, but he supposes he needs to get used to strange things with this man around.

“My name is Marco,” he replies slowly. “I’ve been assigned to watch you.”

Ace raises an eyebrow as the dark haired familiar pokes his tongue out at Marco. The blond one watches on, half-hidden behind Ace’s shoulder.

“Can you cook?” Ace asks, and he seems to be incredibly eager to hear the answer. Marco thinks on it for a moment, shrugging.

“Well enough I guess,” he says, and the dark haired familiar runs over to him, fingers clawing at Marco’s damp top.

“Do you have meat?” he asks, eyes sparkling and fingers digging into Marco’s arm. “I like meat. I love meat. Meat is my best friend.”

“Luffy!” the blond familiar hisses, taking a step forward and squaring his shoulders. “Get here now!”

Ace laughs, and Marco gets the sense that this happens all the time. Luffy lets go of his arm and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns back to the other two. It’s clear none of them see Marco as a threat, and he suspects there’s much more to Luffy than his self-proclaimed love of meat.

“You don’t seem too bothered by the fact a complete stranger is saying they’ll take you home,” Marco couldn’t help but say. He watches Ace carefully, and when he speaks, he seems sincere.

“We expected we’d have to book into a hotel or something. Or even worse, camp out. If you’re going to try something shady, then we can hold our own.” Ace smiles, his familiars flickering into their beast shape for a split second, grinning. It’s a warning, Marco knows, and he can feel his power curl in his belly, simmering for the moment it needs to be let loose.

He takes a deep breath. No. Marco needs to watch Ace, find out how he came here and find out whether he can use whatever power Ace did to get back to his home world.

“But I can tell you’re a decent guy,” Ace adds, and his familiars calm. “I was always taught to be polite, and as we pretty much crash landed here, we need to pay back for the mess we made.”

Ace looks around, as if suddenly realising the temple is in better shape than he remembers. He frowns, and Marco smiles to himself.

“This world has a few secrets,” he says, turning his back on Ace and walking towards the elevator. He wants to go home, fall into bed and not think about the fact he’s picked up three unwanted house guests.

Thankfully, Ace follows him, his familiars shooting forward in their creature forms, Luffy circling Marco, questions flowing out of his mouth as the other one took to scouting around. Ace took his place at Marco’s side when they entered the elevator, smiling simply as if he had gotten everything he’d ever wanted.

When they exited the shrine, Marco suddenly remembered that his moped was a while away, hopefully fixed, at the side of the road. He sighed, glancing at Ace.

“It won’t be too far to walk,” he said, and it wasn’t really. It would be quicker with his moped of course, but that option wasn’t exactly valid at the moment.

“So what do you do?” Ace asked, sloshing through puddles, looking up at the stars as he spoke. His familiars were running wild in the fields next to the road, happy to leave Ace with Marco.

“What do I do?” Marco repeated, wondering where to start. “I suppose I help run this world.”

Ace nods his head, humming to himself.

“So like a politician then?” he says, and Marco narrows his eyes.

“Not really,” he says, and Ace hums again. “More like a god.” Marco doesn’t like calling himself a god, but there is no other title that fits enough. A king would be too simple, and what king has the powers Marco does? No. He is no politician or king. He might not be the Holy God, but he is a god of sorts.

“Oh good,” Ace says, voice bright and bubbly, but he doesn’t elaborate. That’s okay, though, and Marco looks ahead, spotting a familiar shape by the side of the road, propped up as if it had never been broken.

“I don’t have a spare helmet,” Marco says when they reach his moped. “You’ll have to borrow mine. Can you get them to float with us?”

Luffy and the other one look slightly affronted that they wouldn’t be riding pillion, but floated upwards regardless. Maybe he could take them out tomorrow, just to be fair. He’ll have to shift them in around work… Marco discards that thought. Whitebeard probably expects him to have the day off, and if he has to entertain his new guests then so be it. And that thought doesn’t fill Marco with warmth, not at all. He forces a scowl, though there’s no heat in it, and tries to ignore the possibility that he might like this opportunity that has presented itself to him. It’s been so long since he’s had friends, maybe it won’t be so bad.

“I have meat at home,” he mutters, passing Ace his helmet as Luffy floated by, head dipped. The words instantly perk him up, and he circles the moped happily.

“Ace! Sabo!” he says, laughing. “Meat!”

Marco can’t help but smile as the three of them burst into laughter. It is the laugh of individuals who have been through thick and thin with each other and love each other immensely. Marco can feel their happiness as they speed through the night (granted ‘speed’ is probably being a little generous to his moped) back to his home.

Thatch is waiting for them when Marco opens the door. The dog bursts out, wagging his tail as he inspects Ace and the mysterious creatures. Marco leaves them to it, moving inside to turn on the heating and get some food on. Oh, and he has to set up the spare room, then make sure he has enough towels and such in case they want to shower right now and…

Marco doesn’t like having guests too much, particularly when they’re staying longer than a few hours. He also has a feeling this lot will be a bit of a handful, and his trail of thought is proved pretty accurate as Thatch comes tearing in, Luffy and Sabo giggling on his heels, chasing each other around the house.

It’s inevitable that something gets broken, and Marco watches Ace as he steps inside, face morphing into something horrified as Luffy, Sabo and Thatch all slide into one of the cabinets, smashing some of the small trinkets Marco had on top and his photos.

“What are you doing?” Ace hisses, looking at Marco with wide eyes. “I am so, so sorry,” he hurries out, and Marco shrugs.

“I told you the world has a few secrets. Watch the cabinet.” He turns away to chop vegetables and check how much meat he has, but Marco still hears the sharp intake of breath Ace makes. He is definitely not of their world then, not with that reaction, and Marco takes a quick look, eyes widening as he sees how still Ace is, how taken with the magic of this world.

“It heals itself,” Ace whispers, and Marco clears his throat, forcing himself to tend to his vegetables.

“It stopped when you broke into this world,” Marco says quietly, and Ace turns to him, eyes still wide and mind captivated by the glass melting flawlessly and trinkets fixing themselves back together. Luffy, Sabo and Thatch have vanished, probably to play in the garden, and Marco is suddenly aware of how close Ace has become.

“I came here to look for something,” Ace says, and there is something wild in his voice. He smiles, stepping closer to Marco, playing with the plastic wrap over the meat. “I’ve been searching for ages, actually. I never thought I’d make it to this world, that this world actually exists!”

Marco sets a large pot on to boil, dumping the vegetables in the broth. He takes the meat from under Ace’s fingertips, slicing into the flesh, for once not pondering how useless the knife is to him. Marco waits instead, counting the breaths Ace takes, ignoring the hissing of their food.

“This is the thirteenth world you know,” Ace says softly, and Marco nods. He remembers looking at Whitebeard and Izo’s research, how twelve different universes surrounded their own. Travel between them is impossible though, and Marco should know. He feels as though he’s tried everything to get back to his birth world.

“It’s impossible to get to this world, but we made it.” There is something triumphant in Ace’s voice, and it’s no wonder. Ace really did achieve the impossible, and Marco is itching to ask how.

“I’m not entirely sure how,” Ace admits, looking down. Marco stirs the pot, sliding in the meat, and sets water to boil too. He’ll sit Ace down and question him, obtain every bit of information he can. That was why Whitebeard had given Ace to him, wasn’t it?

“I can show you part of how we came here though,” Ace continues, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling a tiny object out. It looks like a hammer, and Marco feels a strange energy surrounding them. The hammer grows, suddenly, and Marco’s power bubbles inside of him, ruby beads slipping over his hand in preparation to be used.

“This is Aratama,” Ace says, setting the hammer on the ground. It’s transparent, inside the hammerhead balls of what look like pure energy sparking. A line of sapphire beads hang from the handle and Marco can tell it’s a powerful weapon. A divine weapon even.

“We managed to break into this world using it,” Ace confirms, and Marco sets about filling a pot of tea, silent until he is sitting down with Ace in the other room. As he’d suspected, Luffy, Sabo and Thatch are in the garden, and their laughter filters in through the closed doors.

“Why?” Marco asks over steaming tea. It’s a simple question, but it has so many meanings. Marco wants to know everything, but that is asking too much of a complete stranger.

Ace doesn’t feel like too much of a stranger though. Marco feels comfortable around him, as if they’ve known each other for years. He shifts in his seat, looking down at his tea.

“I’m looking for my family,” Ace says, turning his head to watch Luffy and Sabo. “The rest of my family,” He clarifies. There is more, Marco can feel it in the presence of the huge hammer and the way Ace’s mouth is still slightly opened.

“I’m also looking for a god, and a way back home.” Ace turns to Marco with his wild smile, eyebrows raised. “How do you find a god?”

Marco doesn’t know. He aches for Ace’s goals, for they are so similar to his own. He too is looking for a god, for a man, and a way back home. Their paths are so very different though, for there is no hatred in Ace’s goals. While Marco resents the god he is looking for, Ace feels nothing of the sort.

“It depends what god you’re looking for,” he says instead, opening his arms wide with a lopsided smile. Ace rolls his eyes in food nature, fingers wrapping around his cup.

“You’re not the god I’m looking for,” he mutters, smiling. Marco figures he must be after Whitebeard then, for if there was any other god to be found, Ace would surely have found them in the other worlds by now.

“I can help you,” Marco says, the words spilling from his lips. He can hear the pot in the kitchen overflowing, liquid hissing as it hits hot metal, but he doesn’t care. No doubt the smell will bring Luffy in soon and he’ll serve it before the flavours have soaked in, so who cares about a little liquid loss.

“If you take me with you when you return to your world,” Marco adds quickly, looking Ace dead in the eye. His power shifts inside of him as the hammer beside Ace seems to hum, and Ace’s look grows serious.

“Okay,” he says slowly, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip, eyes never leaving Marco’s. “You have to help me find them though.”

Marco nods, and he can hear the door going, the trio outside clambering in the house as the smell of food drifts out to them. A bargain has been made, and Marco feels hope well in his chest for the first time in a long, long while. Ace still has a lot to tell him, but Marco knows that this path will lead him somewhere.

He can only hope Ace doesn’t want to harm Whitebeard. Going back to his birth world might be Marco’s goal, but Whitebeard means more than any world to him, and not even Ace’s help is worth Whitebeard’s life.

Marco sighs and stands, setting about serving dinner. He has the feeling that the next few weeks will be long and difficult, but there is something in him that is excited to see what will happen.


	2. Past I [Ace]

Hurrying through the corridors, Ace shouts apologies over his shoulder, trying his hardest not to drop the cloth-covered sword he is holding. Luffy and Sabo race ahead of him, making a game of this, and Ace fights not to shout at them. Inari will be in trouble if he doesn’t get his sword to his mentor before he sets out.

“Sensei!” Ace shouts as they reach the huge portal room. Stepping inside is almost an out-of-world experience, the ceiling and walls dark with glowing stars. Huge doors, twelve of them, lead to the other worlds, this room the Shrine’s transportation room.

“Ace,” Inari says as Ace finds him, setting the sword on the ground and bending over. “Sorry to make you run all the way here.”

Ace rolls his eyes, watching as Luffy and Sabo greet Inari’s familiar, grey familiar that is as much a teacher to them as Inari is to him.

“You always forget, Sensei,” Ace mumbles. He looks at Inari’s masked face, the fox-painted porcelain staring back at him.

“I know, I know,” Inari replies, bringing a hand down to ruffle Ace’s hair. Ace can imagine him smiling underneath his mask, moustache twitching as he breaks into a rough laugh.

“When will I be able to come with you?” Ace asks, and Inari looks away, lifting his sword and calling to his familiars. He doesn’t answer Ace right away, and Ace sighs. He knows the answer, he always knows the answer, but he’d hoped…

“You’re still too young. Give it four more years, and you might get to come with me.” Ace can see the bright, wild-look in Inari’s eyes through the mask, and he nods. Ace can wait four more years, he thinks. He’s ten now; it’s not too much of a wait.

“I’ll see you later,” Inari says, and Ace watches his mentor leave, heading for one of the portals. Ace isn’t sure exactly what the Shrine does in the other worlds, but he knows they maintain peace and balance. Ace thinks they’re heroes, though the current Head of the Shrine says they’re more like gods. Ace thinks Sengoku is too old to make sense anymore, a thought that Luffy and Sabo secretly share with him, because Inari isn’t a god. Inari is just Inari (and he still won’t tell Ace his real name).

As he’s not a graduate of the Shrine and still in training, Ace sets about his chores. The Shrine is a huge organisation, and there’s always something to clean or organise. Today, he’s assigned to clean the wooden deck in the Eastern temple, along with a small troop of other trainees. Ace has been here the longest, since he was born here actually, so he knows the other trainees well, and a hard day’s work turns into something fun, familiars joining in too.

While Ace knows it’s not normal for someone to have spent their entire life at the Shrine, no one treats him any differently for it. Inari is the one who raised Ace, the one who taught him everything he knows, and the one Ace will follow no matter what. Ace doesn’t know his biological family, but he thinks Inari is the closest thing he has to a father.

Ace sighs, looking down at the cloth in his hands. He’s busy polishing a door handle for lack of things to clean, and for once, he doesn’t feel like skipping chores to stand outside of the kitchen.

See, the truth is that Ace does know his biological family. Or at least half of it. He lies when he says Inari is the closest thing to a father he has. Inari is his father, though they’ve never openly discussed their relationship. Inari continues on as his mentor, and Ace continues on as the student. It’s a relationship that works, and Ace has never felt they need to change how they work. Ace doesn’t know any different, after all. The Shrine is his life – he’s never seen what parents are supposed to be, and it’s not as if Inari doesn’t love him.

Ace does wonder who his mother is, though. He wonders who caught Inari’s heart and kept it. He wonders how much it will take for him to get Inari to tell him his real name, to get him to trust Ace with every secret he keeps hidden from the world under his mask.

“Ace!” a voice shrieks, the sound of water slopping on the floor accompanying the words. “Ace look!”

It happens in slow motion, and Ace can’t stop the laughter that flows from him. Luffy and Sabo are standing in the garden just beyond the deck, except Luffy has somehow managed to throw cleaning water all over Sabo. It’s not often Luffy gets one-up on Sabo, and Sabo looks furious.

“This is disgusting!” he roars, kicking a leg out in effort to push Luffy over. Luffy runs off laughing, and Ace sets his cloth down to help Sabo catch Luffy.

Ace has been friends with Sabo and Luffy for years now, and they always know how to cheer him up. They’re a perfect team, and Ace would be lost without them.

One day, Ace thinks as he runs off to find another bucket of dirty water, he’ll take them outside this world. They’ll travel the universes, explore hidden worlds, and there will be nothing that can stop them.

The Shrine continues on as always, and Ace continues training to become a priest. If he can become a priest, he can walk through the doors to the other worlds. He can achieve his dream of freedom and take Sabo and Luffy off on adventures. Inari trains him, and Ace thinks he’s setting him up to take the exams at the young age of 12.

It’s dark when Ace gets back from his hand-to-hand combat sessions. He is sweaty and can’t wait to tell Sabo and Luffy about Sengoku interrupting halfway through his session to storm through the room. He’d been in a bad mood, spoken to Ace’s trainer then left. He is excited to theorise with his familiars, but frowns when he feels something strange nearby.

A shadow is clumped against the door to Ace and Inari’s quarters of the Shrine. It shifts, and Ace narrows his eyes, surprised to see that it’s not a demonic shadow, but a pitch-black rabbit. It stills, looking at Ace, and he can see a spot of lighter fur, just at the junction where ear meets its head.

Ace smiles and opens their house door. They have a few rooms inside, though Ace isn’t allowed in all of them. He never gets to go down the far corridor, though Inari’s never explicitly banned him from venturing down there. Ace simply has a feeling the place isn’t to be disturbed, so he doesn’t go there.

Ace had expected the rabbit to run off, so it’s a surprise when it hops in through the open door, taking off down the corridor. Ace’s eyes widen. If Luffy and Sabo caught the rabbit, the poor thing would become Luffy’s new friend, and while Luffy gaining a new friend isn’t a bad thing, the rabbit doesn’t look like it would be happy for cuddles all day long.

The rabbit disappears around the corner, and Ace curses. He slams the front door shut and races after the rabbit, hoping to catch it before it reaches the places Ace never goes.  
His feet slide against the wooden floor as Ace skids around the corner, and he hopes all this noise won’t bring Luffy and Sabo to him. The house seems quiet for now, so Ace walks on, eyes peering through the darkness of the corridor, trying to find the rabbit. He’s in unfamiliar territory now, and he tiptoes, as silent as he can be.

There is a light at the end of the corridor, coming from an open room around the corner. Ace didn’t know that Inari was home, but he has to be. No one else would be in this part of their home. In the light cast on the ground, Ace can see the small form of the rabbit. It hops towards the light, and he thinks it glances back at him for a moment.

It’s gone a moment later, and Ace takes off after it, tip-toeing towards the light. He rounds the corner and can hear a soft snore from inside of the room, a snore he recognises as Inari’s. Relief floods Ace’s chest that Inari is asleep, and he thinks he’ll be able to catch the rabbit without any fuss.

The rabbit is in the room now, so Ace steps in quietly. Inari is sitting in a chair, the same kind they have in the kitchen – wooden and uncomfortable. He’s fast asleep, head tilted forwards on his chest. The chair faces the wall, and Ace looks towards it as the rabbit presses its side against it, ruby red eyes peering at Ace, as if trying to tell him something.

Ace is lost, however. On the wall are tens of pieces of paper, posted together to form a beautiful picture. It’s an entire world, Ace thinks, or at least a huge, sprawling city. It looks almost magical, futuristic and nothing like the Shrine. Ace feels a tug in his belly and moves towards the picture, stopping with his fingertips bare centimetres away as Inari lets out a strange sound.

Instantly, Ace turns around, afraid he’s been caught. There’s no real reason why he can’t be in here, but Ace feels as if he’s intruded on something private, something hidden.

“Rouge,” Inari says softly, head falling to the side slightly. There is sadness in his voice, longing too, and it makes Ace uncomfortable. He looks down at the ground, eyes searching for the rabbit, only to find empty space.

The rabbit isn’t hard to locate, however, and Ace can see it curled against Inari’s foot. It looks peaceful, almost as if it belongs. Ace doesn’t have the heart to move it for one, but it looks right for another. Ace isn’t sure he should be there at all anymore, and he steals one last glance at the drawings on the wall.

If it’s possible, Ace thinks, he would like for that world to be real. Perhaps it is a world that Inari has seen, though Ace doubts it. He looks at Inari as he passes, something cool spiking through him as he sees the wetness on Inari’s cheeks, the tear-stains tracking down to his moustache. He’s been crying in his sleep, Ace sees, and he wonders who this Rouge is, what the rabbit is here for, and what the world means to Inari.

He never asks these questions, of course. Ace continues his training, continues towards his goal of taking Sabo and Luffy on adventures, and pretends the night with the rabbit never happened. Ace always wonders about the rabbit and the other world in the back of his mind, but he pretends everything is as it always has been.

Until one day, when Ace is 14, when Inari is no longer there.


	3. Present II [Ace]

It’s been a few weeks since Ace arrived in the Mirror World, or Kyōto as it’s officially named, and he finds himself loving every inch of this strange world. It’s a lot like an ordinary town, though reminds him of a time before modern technology. It’s beautiful, humans co-existing with nature and strange other-worldly creatures that are painted in all shades of the rainbow, some even with patterns that flicker over their bodies. Ace has spent a lot of time running through forests and fields since he got here, as the town they are in is the only human settlement, and he thinks this is such a beautiful world. This world doesn’t obey any of the rules the other worlds live by. This world is special, Ace thinks, and it never stops surprising him.

During the second week, Ace had met the head of the science research committee, a stern man named Izo. He had greeted Ace curtly, though his entire demeanour had changed the moment Ace had shown him Aratama. Izō is fascinated by the hammer, muttering about cosmic powers and otherworldly energies, and when there’s an opportunity, he has Ace down at the lab, trying to understand what exactly Aratama is and its power.

Currently, Ace is sitting leaning on the handle of Aratama, bored out of his mind. Izō is pouring over graphs and charts with his dedicated team, too busy to even look in Ace’s direction. Sabo and Luffy aren’t even here, having been banned from research rooms since the first day. Luffy had knocked things over and while everything had repaired, he had been deemed a menace and barred. There is no way Ace is letting Luffy roam the world unsupervised, and so Sabo is tasked to watch him.

Which leaves Ace bored out of his mind. The last time he felt this bored was during one of Tsuru’s lectures at the Shrine, on something to do with the technicalities of world-travelling. Ace has never been one to follow the rules, and the rules would never have gotten him to Kyōto in the first place. Ace doesn’t do by the book.

Izō is still busy with science stuff, so Ace closes his eyes. A nap is always a good thing, no matter time or location, and he is prepared to get a good rest when the door bursts open. He can tell who it is without opening his eyes, and Ace grins as Luffy zooms towards him in his creature form, Sabo and Marco hanging back at the door.

“You!” Izō shouts, though he pauses as Marco steps into the room.

When he found out that Marco is the ruler of this world (co-ruler actually, but Ace hasn’t seen the other one, so he assumes this Whitebeard is a strange, invisible man if he really does exist), Ace had laughed. He knows what powerful people are like, and Marco has none of the arrogance or controlling demeanour to rule this world. Still, it had been the truth, and Ace is surprised at how loved Marco is. And it is genuine love, something Ace never thought a ruler could have.

It’s not that the people at the Shrine are cruel or harsh. They intervene with all the worlds, though, so they have to be objective. Do not get involved, is what Ace was always told, and he always thought he’d be able to uphold that. None of the worlds he’s been to have ever captivated him, at least until this one.

It is strange to see a man who cares so tenderly for his world. Marco will do anything, Ace knows, absolutely anything, to protect this world and its people, though Ace thinks that is something Marco doesn’t even know about himself. He has so much love for this world, but very little for himself. Ace doesn’t know why, doesn’t care to find out – he’s not here for Marco, even if they get on well, and he enjoys Marco’s company.

No. Ace isn’t here to make friends. He’s here searching, a hunt he began years ago. Ace is looking for Inari, for the man who raised him, and the man who vanished without a trace. It’s been over six years since Ace last saw him, but Ace will never give up his search.

He is glad he gets on well with Marco, though. Even though he has Luffy and Sabo, it is lonely sometimes. Marco seems to understand his loneliness, though Ace doesn’t know how or why, and they just seem to fit together nicely. Ace feels something deeper for Marco, something he doesn’t want to think too much about, especially when he’ll have to leave eventually, but he thinks that if he stays, something might grow. The thought scares him a little, but every now and then he’ll catch himself staring at Marco as he’s washing the dishes, hanging out kimonos to dry or even pointing out interesting things for them to look at, and he thinks that Marco could be someone he gives himself to entirely.

Ace clenches his jaw, stanching the thought at that. He likes Marco, and that’s it. They’re friends. Nothing more, despite the thoughts that linger in Ace’s mind every now and again. They’re only there due to the kindness Ace has known from Marco, nothing more. Ace has hardly had much experience with people, genuine people, so any kindness was always going to result in a small crush of sorts. The teachers at the Shrine were hardly going to do anything for Ace, and he’s never been bothered chasing after people like some of his peers.

“Something funny’s happening!” Luffy says brightly, changing into his human form and looking down at Ace. Ace thinks he’s grown a bit taller in the time they’ve been here. One day maybe Luffy will rival him in height, though Ace thinks he’ll always be a bit more of a string-bean than him.

“The station’s opened,” Marco says, and Izo hums to himself, packing the papers on his desk away and shooing his colleagues out of the way.

“I suppose you want Ace back then?” he says, and Marco nods, tight-lipped smile on his face.

“It’s so cool,” Luffy begins, and Sabo rolls his eyes as he joins them.

“It’s like taking everything to landfill,” Sabo counters, and Luffy’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“It’s cool,” he repeats, poking his tongue out childishly. “Marco says it’s only for objects, but I thought there should be one for people too because-“

“We can fly anyway, why would you need one of them for people?” Sabo says, shooting an amused glance to Ace. Ace still has no idea what they’re on about, but he takes Aratama’s handle and shrinks the hammer, standing up and stretching as he hides Aratama in his pocket.

“Something weird’s going on then?” he asks, and Luffy turns back to him, nodding enthusiastically.

“Marco said we needed to show you too,” Sabo says, tilting his head in Marco’s direction with a smirk. It’s not an unkind look, but Sabo is smart, and Ace knows that he’s never been able to keep any remote secret hidden from him.

Sabo knows about his little insignificant crush, no doubt. Ace ignores that piece of information and instead plasters on a bright smile. He’ll talk to Sabo later, probably, so why bother thinking on the issue now?

Marco leads the way, Ace a half-step behind him. They walk in silence, Luffy whizzing by with a cackle, Sabo choosing to stay behind them. He seems more interested in the science that’s going on here, and Ace wonders if he can let Sabo join them for a bit. There’s not much else for them to do in this world, at least while Ace researches, and Sabo is more likely to get helpful information here than stalking Luffy through towns and fields.

They step into the sun, and Ace has to shield his eyes for a moment. It’s warm out, and his body relaxes. He always did do better in warm weather than cold.

“Look!” Luffy shouts, and Ace follows the direction of his paw. It looks almost as if there is a huge, bubbling river in the sky, and Ace narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what exactly is happening.

“The station opens once a year,” Marco says, shifting to stand beside Ace. Their shoulders are barely centimetres apart and Ace can feel the heat radiating from Marco. He’d be a good person to share a bed with in winter, Ace muses lightly, cutting off that trail of thought straight after.

“Everyone uses it to get rid of things they don’t need anymore, but it’s also become a tradition.” Marco’s voice is low, eyes narrowed, and Ace can see there’s more to this station that it just hoarding loads of junk.

“It’s a portal?” Ace asks, and Marco nods stiffly.

“Only for objects,” Marco says, and Ace can tell that’s the voice of someone who has tried. Ace doesn’t know why Marco wants to leave, but he can sense Marco’s need, his desperation, and thinks it has to be a good reason.

“You might be able to use it though,” he adds on lightly, far too lightly for him to mean it in such a way. This bothers Marco. Ace’s abilities bother Marco. Ace wanting to stay bothers Marco but not for his presence. Ace is a constant reminder of what he can never have, Ace can tell.

He hums to himself, bumping Marco’s shoulder lightly.

“Maybe,” he comments, though Ace doesn’t think the station will be any use to him at all. “But I haven’t found whom I’m looking for yet, so I have to stay anyway.”

Ace thinks he can see a soft smile on Marco’s lips, but it vanishes before he can confirm it.

“So,” Ace begins, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. “Do you just throw things up there?”

Marco shakes his head, leading Ace to his moped, parked outside of the science institution. Sabo shifts as Ace climbs on behind Marco, flipping the visor to his helmet down, and soon they’re cruising towards Marco’s house, Sabo and Luffy above them.

If there’s one memory he has to keep, Ace thinks as he tightens his grip around Marco’s waist, then he wants to keep this one. He wants to remember Marco in front of him, Luffy and Sabo above them, and the wind sweeping the world away. They’re not going anywhere fast, or in particular, but this little moped journey is their entire world. They don’t think of gods and duties here. They don’t need to think of responsibilities and trying to claw their way free of this world. They are what they are, two people making their way through the universe.

All things have to end, however, and they pull up at Marco’s house, wheels crunching on the gravel drive. Luffy instantly takes off, shouting that he’ll get rid of anything he doesn’t want, and Sabo follows him with a warning shout. Knowing Luffy, he’ll just throw everything away.

“I’ll show you how it works,” Marco said wearily, though there is a smile on his face, and Ace knows that he doesn’t mind the multitude of things he’s had to show the three of them over the past few weeks.

“It’s about intent,” Marco says as they walk through the front door. Thatch is holding a chewed-up ball, and he whines, pawing Marco’s leg as they pass.

“Good boy,” Marco says, crouching down to remove the ball from Thatch’s mouth and stroke him. “We’ll get rid of this.”

They move out to the garden, Luffy joining them with a handful of sweets that he says he won’t miss (or that Ace knows taste disgusting, gifted to them by someone back at the Shrine who had thought they’d try to get Luffy to eat healthily, giving him sweets that tasted pretty much like dirt). Sabo sits on the wooden deck, swinging his legs as he watches them. Ace smiles at him as he joins him, focusing on Marco as he holds the ball out.

“You have to wish for it to go,” Marco says, and he lowers the ball to the ground, nodding to Thatch. “Like this.”

He lets go of the ball. Instead of falling to the ground as a ball should, it slowly rises, aiming to join the small streams of unwanted items in the sky. It doesn’t get to make its goal, however, for Thatch leaps in, catching the ball before it can vanish entirely.

“Here,” Marco says as Thatch wanders over to Marco. He dumps the ball in Ace’s lap, head resting on Ace’s thigh. His brown eyes stare up at Ace, pleading, and Ace can excuse the slobber that now covers his shorts.

“I just wish,” Ace says, rolling the damp ball in the palm of his hand. It doesn’t seem too hard, he thinks, but he’s never done anything like this before so he has no real idea. He thinks hard about it, trying to command the ball to rise, but it stays firmly in his palm.

“You’re not wishing,” Sabo mutters, eyes leaving Luffy’s scene of delight as he sends sweets flying into the air around him. “If that idiot can do it, so can you.”

Ace raises an eyebrow, glancing over to Luffy, and it clicks. He’s thinking too hard. It’s easy for Luffy because Luffy is all instinct. It’s not about forcing the ball to rise, it’s about wishing it gone.

“Okay,” Ace says, and Sabo nods to himself, sliding off of the deck to wrestle a few sweets from Luffy, wanting to try his own hand at this. Ace turns back to the ball and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t wish for it to float, doesn’t wish for it to zoom off, simply decides that he doesn’t need it.  
The ball has no purpose for him, and he watches it rise slowly, Thatch’s head moving up to follow its journey.

It’s soon a speck in the blue sky, joining thousands of other specks. Ace smiles, looking at Marco.

“I did it,” he said, and Ace feels proud of himself. It’s not a great accomplishment, but it’s something he did in Marco’s world. He showed Marco he belonged in this world every bit as much as everyone else, essentially.

Ace looks away from the sky and to Marco, unable to help himself. He really does have a problem, he thinks. He seems magnetised to Marco, as if there is some unstoppable force that he can’t fight. It’s a pretty useless force, really, because looking at someone all the time doesn’t do much. Marco probably thinks he’s a little touched in the head.

“That’s how the station works,” Marco says, heading back inside. He returns with a small bin, full of odd bits and pieces, and he holds the bin out for Luffy and Sabo.

“I’m going to start on lunch. Here’s some more things you can get rid of, if you like.” Thatch barks at the words, digging his nose into the bin and dragging a few items out, running to pass one each to Luffy, Sabo and Ace. They play this game for a while, chasing Thatch when they run out of items, until Marco calls them in for food.

“I’ll take you to the station this afternoon,” he announces halfway through their soup, fingers ducking down to his hip, a gesture Ace has seen Marco make hundreds of times, and he’s every bit as curious as he was the first time he noticed. “If you see anything you like, you can bring it back too.”

Luffy shouts merrily at that, and even Sabo grins. It’s been awhile since they got anything for themselves, and Ace thinks the station will be a goldmine of old, useless crap. And everyone loves old, useless crap.

The station front is always busy as it’s situated right in the centre of the main town. People greet them kindly, most a little withdrawn from Marco. Ace sees a few blushes on the faces of passers-by, and he feels something stir in him, something that he doesn’t acknowledge.

There are trains waiting on the tracks, steady streams of items loading into them. Marco passes through a sparse crowd, taking their little group to one of the trains at the edge of the station. It’s quiet here, save for the sound of items clanking into the train carriages, and Marco peers through the windows.

“Everything gets loaded into these trains and then it passes through the station, never to be seen again.” He folds his arms over his chest, leaning his back against the metal of the carriage.

“You can explore,” he says to them, and Luffy practically rips open the train door to get inside, laughter echoing from the carriage as he digs through items to find something he wants. Sabo enters curiously after, leaving Ace alone with Marco.

“Do you not want to look?” Ace asks. Marco shakes his head, an empty look in his eyes as he glances at Ace.

“I tried using the station to get back to my world,” he confesses, and the confession is so soft that Ace has to step closer if he wishes to hear more. “It didn’t work,” Marco finishes, and Ace looks away.

Universe travel is difficult. Ace has spent the better part of two decades studying it, and he’s still not entirely sure how he managed to break through to this world. He’s passed through the temples at the Shrine, stepping through doorways to other worlds, but this world is different. This world shouldn’t be here, not really.

“I’m going to join them,” Ace says. There is no way he can save Marco from whatever demons haunt him, and he doesn’t want to. Ace has his own ghosts to chase, and he knows that if anyone else caught them before he could, he’d never forgive them. They all need to work on their own problems.

Ace is looking through a collection of shiny, gold buttons when Marco joins them inside. Luffy instantly presents him with his greatest find – an old pirate hat, raggedy feathers and soft cloth replacing his straw hat for a moment. His precious hat sits on Ace’s head for now, shading Ace’s eyes as he traces Marco’s passage through the train carriage.

“So I was thinking of asking Marco if he can get me in with the science division,” Sabo says, poking at the buttons Ace was looking at before. Tucked under his arm is a book, and while Ace can’t quite see the title, it looks like an old book. Sabo’s always been on a quest for knowledge, and it’s no surprise he’s picked a book out of everything else.

“I heard they were having some trouble with their latest project,” Sabo continues, and Ace hums to himself, thinking of the monstrous machine he’d seen a few days ago.

“I don’t know what they’re trying to do with Bishimaru,” Ace says. Bishimaru was the name Izo had given the huge robot, gleaming gold and slickly oiled joints making it the largest robot Ace has ever seen. He doesn’t know the purpose of the robot, Izo had glossed over that probably with reason, but it has piqued Sabo’s interest in a way few things do.

“I think,” Sabo says quietly, smile bright as he slips under the safety of Luffy’s straw hat rim, “we’ll be able to use Bishimaru.”

Ace raises an eyebrow, understanding exactly what Sabo means by use. Bishimaru is their key to getting home, and perhaps he can use it to help Marco.

“I can keep an eye on Luffy,” Ace says, and Sabo nods thankfully, drawing back. He pulls a button shaped like a cat out of the button box, wiggling it in front of Ace.

“Go look properly,” he says, and Ace nods. “There’s lots of stuff you’ll like here.”

Ace does as he’s told and starts sorting through piles of useless items, wondering what he’ll find. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up at Marco’s side, fingers brushing Marco’s as they reach for a painting together.

“Sorry,” Ace rushes out, looking at Marco. He pauses, stifles a laugh, and hurriedly turns back to the painting, trying to get the image of Marco in the pirate hat Luffy had found out of his mind.

“Luffy decided it looks better on me than him,” Marco says, and Ace can tell he thinks fondly of Luffy. It’s a terrible hat, really, and Marco looks ridiculous.

“It suits you,” Ace manages to say with a straight face, though he isn’t sure how he manages that. He does laugh a moment later, shaking his head at the absurdity that is Marco.

“Please wear it all day,” Ace pleads, and Marco rolls his eyes. He keeps the hat on though, perhaps just to wind Ace up, and pulls out the painting they both reached for. It is a landscape, a mountain view, and Ace thinks it would suit Marco’s hallway well. He says as much, and Marco nods.

“I was thinking the same thing,” he says softly, shifting so he can remove the painting from the pile properly. Ace doesn’t know the painting’s story, but he feels a little sorry for it, for all the objects on this train really. It’s not all complete rubbish. A lot of it is simply unwanted, and he is glad that people can sift through and take what they like.

Luffy comes over to them. He’s absolutely filthy, and Ace doesn’t want to know where he’s been. He looks proud, though, and he holds out his prize. It’s a map, a fairly old one, of Kyōto, of this world. Luffy loves exploring, and as Ace sets Luffy’s hat back on its rightful owner’s place, he glances at the beautifully drawn map. Luffy has adventure in his veins, Ace is sure, and he knows Luffy’s more interested in where he can go than the details of the map. This map is his key, and Ace is happy for him.

Still, now everyone is waiting for him. Ace searches on for something, but he cannot find anything he feels is right. He is aware that the others leave the train, and he sighs, sitting down as he peers outside. He is surprised to see that the sun is already setting, and resigns himself to leaving empty handed.

Ace stands up with a sigh, dusting himself off and heading to the door. He moves slowly, hoping something will jump out at him. He doesn’t know why it’s shameful to return to the others empty handed, but Ace doesn’t want to leave without something. His foot catches against something and Ace stumbles, leaning against an old cupboard, and his eyes meet something he wants.

It’s a fairly small picture frame, simple dark wood and smooth glass. It’s not remarkable in any way, but Ace reaches for it as if it’s food for a starving man. He cradles it gently, thinking about how he will use it, and darts out of the train with a triumphant grin.

“Do you have a camera?” he asks Marco as soon as he steps into cool evening air. Marco turns away from the person he’d been talking to – an elderly woman who looks to have given him a melon if the fruit cradled in his arms is anything to go by – and looks at Ace, mouth half-open, sentence dying. He apologises to the woman quickly, and she shakes her head with a little smile, as if she’s seen this before. Ace doesn’t exactly get the look she gives him, but it fills him with warmth, and he steps up to Marco, picture frame in hand.

“I want a photo,” Ace says, and both Luffy and Sabo creep closer. Luffy’s in his creature form, and he floats above them, red fur brushing Ace’s cheek as he peers down.

“We have photos,” he says, poking his tongue out at Sabo as Sabo joins him, pushing him out of the way. Luffy decides to half-rest on Ace’s head instead.

“We need one with Marco,” Ace says, and he feels everyone stare at him. There is silence for a moment and he hastens to continue. “And Thatch. I thought it would be nice for all of us.”

Luffy slides down his back until he hits the ground, shifting to his human form. He smiles, stating it’s a brilliant idea, and any awkwardness vanishes instantly.

They set off back home, and Ace gets the important job of balancing a painting, his picture frame, and a melon in the space between him and Marco. Sabo carries his own book, and Ace is pretty sure he’s tucked Luffy’s map inside to keep it safe.

Thatch greets them happily as they step inside, sniffing at the treasures they bring with them. He barks as Luffy creeps in, and it doesn’t take long before they are chasing each other through the house, laughter echoing in the rooms. Marco passes him with a smile, asking Ace to find a place for the painting, and slips into his room.

There is a perfect space in the corridor near his room. Marco’s bedroom is at one end, the room Ace is sharing with Sabo and Luffy the other end. There is a perfect space halfway between the two rooms, and Ace collects a nail and a hammer from the toolbox Marco keeps under his sink, making quick work of hanging the painting. He’s happy with his placement and moves to knock on Marco’s door, hesitating as he hears the sound of rifling through drawers. He’ll come back later then, Marco’s clearly lost something and needs to focus.

The house is eerily silent for a long while after that. Ace sits in the living room, looking as the moon throws strange shadows over the garden. Sabo is lying to the side of the room, head buried in his book, and Luffy went to their room with Thatch to sleep a little while ago. Marco hasn’t come out of his room since he entered, and Ace admits he’s a little worried.

“Should I make dinner?” he wonders aloud, ignoring the snort of laughter Sabo lets escape. He’s not the best cook in the world, but Marco seems busy. It would be a nice gesture, Ace thinks, if he did some of the work for once.

“You’ll end up burning the house down,” Sabo comments lightly, flipping a page in his book. “I know this world fixes everything, but I don’t think Marco would be too impressed either way.”

Ace hums to himself, resting his head on the table before him, eyes still staring out at the garden. This world has such a peaceful atmosphere, and Ace thinks that if he had to pick just one world, if he really had to, this one wouldn’t be so bad.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here,” Sabo says quietly, as if he read Ace’s mind. Or perhaps he knows Ace well enough to know instantly what’s on his mind. “I know we have to find Inari, but if we got a choice…”

Sabo trails off, flipping another page. He doesn’t finish his sentence, and Ace is thankful. He isn’t sure he’ll be able to cope with someone else articulating what he’s kept inside his head. They can’t stay here forever, especially if Inari isn’t here. And Ace really should start looking for him properly, he really should, but looking and finding things means Ace will have to leave. He isn’t sure he’s ready to leave yet.

He’s about to say something when he hears a door open. Ace expects it to be Luffy, but a pale-faced Marco enters the room instead, heading for the cabinets and shelves in the room. He spends time going through every space he can find, shaking his head in irritation when he can’t find what he’s looking for.

Something’s wrong, Ace thinks. Marco hardly seems to notice them, passing from cabinet to drawer, trying desperately to find something. Ace stands slowly, walking to Marco’s side.

“Can we help?” he asks quietly, and Marco pauses for the first time in ages. The tips of his fingers are pink, probably sore too from all the digging through things he’s been doing, and Ace fights to not take his hands and inspect them.

“I-“ Marco starts, frowning. His eyes clear a little, and he takes a deep breath. He seems to recover himself, and there is a little more life in his gaze when he meets Ace’s eyes.

“I lost something precious to me,” he says, and Ace feels his stomach drop. His thoughts flee to the image of a train, and he hopes, as he thinks Marco does, that whatever Marco’s lost is in this house. “I can’t find it,” Marco continues, and Ace can hear the hopelessness and panic he must be feeling.

“We’ll help,” Ace decides, and Sabo closes his book, darting out of the room. He returns a moment later with Luffy and Thatch, and they wait for Marco to detail what they’re hunting for.

“It’s my tantō,” Marco says, hands moving to his hip. “I keep it here, and I know I had it at lunch.” So that’s what the strange hip-touching gesture was all about then, Ace thinks, and while the circumstances are shit, he’s glad to have found out the answer to one of his mysteries.

“We’ll search the house,” Ace promises, and it can’t be too hard to locate a tantō if it is indeed in the house. The sinking feeling returns, though, and Ace thinks they all must know that it can’t be in this house.

The house turns up empty, as they all expect. Thatch whines low in his throat as they come together, disappointment clouding each of their faces. Ace feels hopeless, but he knows what they must do next. It’s late, probably reaching midnight by this point, but no one complains about the lack of food or tiredness. They have to do this, and it’s not long before they’re rushing from the house, all five of them heading towards the station.

At night, it paints an entirely different picture. The station is quiet, but it’s calm and peaceful, not eerie. Ace feels relaxed as they walk in, heading for the train they’d been at earlier in the day. Thatch leaps in first, nose digging through piles of objects as Luffy and Sabo float, keen eyes trying to spot Marco’s blade. Ace works outside of the carriage, wondering if the tantō could have fallen down on the platform, and Marco flits like a ghost between them all.

They’re there for what feels like hours. Ace has bruises all over his hands and knees, his eyes are sore, and he is sure the twinge in his chest is build-up of all the dust he’s inhaled. He sighs, trying not to cough, and looks up as a shadow crosses over him. The sun has started to rise, and it frames Marco in soft, warm light. He looks exhausted, but his desperation has changed to acceptance. Ace can see it in the sad edge to his lips and the downcast look he gives Ace.

“We should go home,” he says, and everything stills. “It’s gone forever.”

Ace refuses to believe that, and he turns away angrily, digging through the pile of stuff in front of him. He thinks this is where the golden buttons were before, but he’s not sure. He’s lost track of where he is, but he knows he can’t stop now. Not when Marco looks that sad, not when this means so much to Marco. Ace has lost things, people, and he’s not about to let Marco lose something precious to him.

“Ace,” Marco says, and Ace can hear a different breed of worry creep into his voice. He ignores it, shuffling to the next pile and scanning it. He can’t see the tantō, but he thinks if he just keep trying-

“Ace,” Marco says again, and this time a hand comes to fall on Ace’s shoulder. “Stop.” The words are firm, and Ace does still, though he refuses to look away, refuses to accept that there’s nothing he can do to fix this.

“It’s gone,” Marco continues, and his voice sounds so tired. “We have to accept that not everything returns the way we want it to.”

Ace can feel the words wrap themselves around his neck, and he stands slowly. He knows it’s true, but he never wants to accept something so cruel. He doesn’t want to accept that Marco’s lost a part of himself, doesn’t want to accept that he can’t find something precious, and doesn’t want to think of how the person he’s searching for might have changed. There was a reason Inari left, Ace thinks.

He lets out a shaky breath and leans against Marco, eyes on the ground.

“I wanted to help,” he manages out, and Marco wraps his arms around him. He is hesitant, Ace can feel, but sincere. He lets Ace know that it is okay, that he doesn’t have to do everything, and pulls away gently. Ace feels lighter, by a tiny fraction, and thinks that if Marco can handle this then so can he.

Sabo, Luffy and Thatch join them, looking on in curiosity. Ace shakes his head slightly, and the air changes. Marco is still upset, but he’s dealing with it. He might never recover from his loss, but he’s accepted that’s the way things are. Ace wishes he could be more like that.

It’s a few days before Ace realises he can do something. He’s seen Marco moving through the house like a shadow since he lost his tantō, and every time he sets eyes on Marco’s shoulders, Ace feels a pang inside of him. He realises, though, that he might not be able to find Marco’s old one, but he can give him a new tantō, a new memory.

Ace has never met Whitebeard. He’s heard a lot about Marco’s co-ruler, but he’s never seen him. Whitebeard could have been an imaginary figure for all Ace knew, if it wasn’t for Izō backing up that Whitebeard is indeed a real person.

He takes Sabo with him when he heads to the science labs. Sabo is more than happy to comply, and it isn’t long before they’re standing in Izō’s office.

“Where can I find Whitebeard?” he asks, not bothering with small talk. Izō wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.

“Whitebeard?” Izō questions, eyebrows drawing together. “What for?”

Ace tilts his chin.

“Private business,” he says, and it seems to be a good answer. Izō smiles, flashing white teeth, before standing. He leans over to dial a number, speaking quietly into it, and his eyes shift from Ace to Sabo.

“You’ll find him down the hall,” Izō says, waving his hand vaguely to the left. If Ace remembers correctly, there is a room down there, but he never knew it was Whitebeard’s. “Your friend can stay here,” Izō adds, and he pulls a stack of papers from a drawer.

“This is some of the data we’ve gathered on Bishimaru,” Izō starts, and Ace leaves with a smile, Sabo reaching eagerly to try and figure out whatever problem Izō is stuck with.

It doesn’t take long to get to Whitebeard’s office, and Ace doesn’t bother knocking. Whitebeard already knows he’s coming. He walks in as if it were perfectly natural, nods to Whitebeard and sits opposite him at the large desk.

Whitebeard is nothing Ace thought him to be. He’s a giant of a man, easily over seven foot, and broad. He looks kind, though, and he smiles as Ace sits, his moustache reminding Ace of Inari.

“How can I help?” he asks, right off the bat. He’s a kind man, Ace can see, though he has the weight of a world on his shoulders.

“Marco lost his tantō,” Ace says simply. Whitebeard draws back slightly, eyebrows raising. Clearly the tantō is an extremely big deal, and Ace is glad he’s learnt this only after deciding to replace it.

“I want to give him another one. One that makes him happy.” Ace nods along with his words. He’s never meant anything as much as he means this, and his sincerity seems to surprise Whitebeard.

“You barely know him,” Whitebeard says, though it’s without accusation. He seems curious, and Ace can’t fault him for that. It is rather strange that he’s going to such lengths just for a blade.

“It means something to Marco,” Ace replies, shrugging. “Even if it was a painful memory, he still cherished that tanto.”

Whitebeard is quiet. He nods slowly, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down. As he passes it to Ace, Ace notices it is an address.

“The best smith in this world,” Whitebeard says. “I’ll cover the payment, do not skim on any accounts.”

Ace smiles, takes the piece of paper and nods. He’ll make the nicest blade he can, and he sets off for town at once. He opens the door, glancing over his shoulder.

“You’re not what I expected,” he admits, and Whitebeard laughs, the sound rumbling through the entire building.

“Neither are you,” he comments, and there is a weight in his words that Ace can’t grasp. He smiles and decides that’s a mystery for another time. Besides, he has something to do, and he needs to get it done as soon as he can.

The man in the shop is nice, and he shows Ace some designs he’s never been able to make before. There are a few Ace is interested in, but it’s the last design that catches his eye. The sword maker seems pleased, and he sends Ace out of the shop, closing up as soon as the door’s closed. He has work to do, and Ace returns to Marco’s house with a smile on his face. No one asks where he has been, and life continues as always.

It’s a couple of weeks later that Ace returns to the shop. The tantō is finished, and the shop owner displays it proudly. The handle is a traditional black, the sheath a deep crimson, the blade itself gleaming. It is a master’s work, and Ace thanks the man profusely, handling the tantō delicately as he makes his way back home.

Ace has no idea if this is similar to Marco’s old tantō. It could be identical for all Ace knows, but it had none of the terrible memories. Marco’s been quieter than usual these past weeks, spending time by himself or at the temple more than at home. Ace isn’t entirely sure why, but it pains him, and he wants to help. Maybe this tantō will help, maybe not, but at least he’s trying.

No one seems to be in when Ace returns, and Ace remembers Sabo mentioning that him and Luffy were taking Thatch for a walk. Ace smiles to himself. Sabo always has the best timing.

“Marco?” Ace calls, and he can hear movement from Marco’s room. He knocks on the door and slides it open when he hears Marco call him in. Ace is even brave enough to slide the door closed behind him, and Marco looks up at that.

At least he isn’t going insane in here, Ace thinks, as he realises Marco is wading through a stack of papers. There’s a desk light on, but aside from that it’s dark inside, despite it being only around lunchtime.

“Is everything okay?” Marco asks, concern dotting his brow. Ace smiles, nodding quickly.

“I wanted to give you something,” he says, stepping closer to Marco’s desk. Marco nods, setting his pen down and turning around to face Ace, and Ace knows this is about more than a tantō. This is about Ace doing something, acknowledging that he can’t just let Marco sit and be upset. This is Ace accepting he feels something to himself. This is Ace showing it, and Marco has absolutely no idea.

“I know your last one meant a lot to you,” Ace says, shifting the arm that is behind his back and offering the small, long box to Marco. “But I also know it was a painful burden to carry.”

Marco’s eyes are wide, and Ace thinks he’ll reject the tantō there and then. Marco doesn’t, though. Instead he reaches out with shaky fingers, curling them around the box and taking it as if the blade would spring from the box and sink into his flesh.

“Ace,” Marco says softly, and hearing his own name sends shivers through Ace’s body. “What did you do?”

He opens the box slowly. The lid falls to the ground and, for a terrifying moment, Ace thinks he’s made a horrific mistake.

“Ace,” Marco says again, and he sounds as if he’s about to break. Ace bits the inside of his cheek, unsure whether he should stay or run. Marco’s next words still him. “It’s beautiful.”

Ace relaxes, inching closer to Marco with a nervous smile.

“I wanted it to be something you thought fondly of,” he says, and Marco looks at him sharply, eyes sparkling. Ace doesn’t want to consider what this means, but he can’t stop himself bending down slightly, looking closer at the tantō.

“I don’t think you should forget your past, but I don’t think you need to let it hold you back,” Ace says, summoning wisdom he never knew he had. Marco looks at him, then down at the tantō, handling it as if it is something precious.

He sets it on the table and looks at Ace as if he is something even more precious. And so Ace does what he always does. He doesn’t think, merely acts, and moves until his lips brush Marco’s ever so slightly. He’s not sure it can be called a kiss and makes to move back, but Marco touches his hand, fingers skimming his wrist and curling around his forearm. It’s all the permission Ace needs, and he kisses Marco properly.

As much as it pains Ace to admit it, they don’t start snogging like horny teenagers. They don’t fall on the floor for a romp, and they certainly don’t confess long-term feelings. That isn’t what this kiss is, and they both know it. Ace feels no disappointment as he pulls back, though he does know that he is ruined from now on. While the kiss wasn’t that of romantic intent, Ace can only imagine what a proper, passionate kiss would be like.

“I’m going to find Sabo and Luffy,” he rushes out, spinning on his heel and almost sprinting for the door. Although he feels butterflies and embarrassment heating his stomach, Ace also feels comforted. Marco hadn’t pushed him away; Marco had pulled him closer. Marco had allowed the kiss.

Ace let his back rest against the wall after he’d closed the door. He closes his eyes and sighs. There’s no way this is just an infantile crush that can be ignored now, he thinks. Still, he brought something good to Marco’s life, and that night the five inhabitants of the house ate together, laughing and playing games until the early hours of the morning.

As he falls into bed that night, Luffy’s arms tight around his stomach, Ace thinks that an unrequited love is fine, just as long as he can see Marco happy.


	4. Present III [Marco]

There isn’t much going on, Marco thinks as he walks around the temple. He checks the floor for dirt and sighs when he sees it is spotless. Of course it is, he thinks, the workers here are proud of their work. They wouldn’t allow a speck of dirt to sully years of tradition and honour. Still, Marco could have appreciated something to do, for the alternative is heading home.

It’s now late summer, and Marco thinks Ace has been here for three, perhaps four months. He’s not entirely sure, but it’s a long time. Everything was fine, until the previous week where Ace had given him a beautiful tantō, and they’d kissed. Marco knows it had been a spur of the moment gesture, but he wishes he’d pulled Ace closer, showed him how much the gift meant – how much Ace meant to him. Regardless of what he should have done, they both seem to be suffering for it now.

Marco sighs, making his way outside. There’s nothing for him to do at the temple, and Whitebeard keeps looking at Marco with a slight downturn of his lips, as if he’s disappointed with Marco’s actions. Marco never told him about the kiss, but he has a feeling Whitebeard knows anyway. He wouldn’t be surprised.

It leaves Marco little choice. If there’s no work to do at the temple, then he has to go home. Or-

“It’s been a while,” Shanks says when Marco climbs off of his moped. He bobs his head, smiling easily at Shanks.

He’d brought Ace and his familiars here a month or two ago. Luffy had taken to Shanks right away, and they’d had a nice day. It seems so far away to Marco now, and he sits down on the shrine steps with a sigh, lying back despite the stone digging into his back.

“What do I do?” he asks Shanks, and Shanks lets out a murmur.

“Get drunk,” is Shanks’ first piece of advice. Marco rolls his eyes and turns to look at Shanks as he sits down. “It’s a valid solution,” he protests, and Marco smiles.

“What do you think about Ace?” he asks instead, and Shanks tilts his head slightly. They watch a rainbow coloured cloud float by, twisting into wispy patterns, and it’s only when it’s high in the sky that Shanks answers.

“I think he’s good for you,” Shanks says easily, and Marco jolts. That isn’t the answer he’s expecting, and he frowns. He’s about to protest and deny all he can, but the pensive look in Shanks’ eyes makes him pause.

“He is good for you,” Shanks says firmly, and there’s nothing Marco can do to counteract that tone. He shakes his head, more out of stubbornness than truth, because Ace probably is good for him. They all are. All of them get Marco out of his head, and he’s hardly thought of that man in the past few months. So yes, Shanks is right.

“I’ve messed things up,” Marco admits, sitting up. He shifts, setting his elbows on his knees and then his head in his hands. Ace has been off with him since that kiss. Marco should have known it would mess everything up between them. If anything could have happened, it never will now, he’s sure of it.

“Really?” Shanks says, and there’s humour in his gaze. “Unless you killed Sabo or Luffy, I doubt you’ve messed things up with Ace.” Marco shakes his head. How can Shanks know that?

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Shanks continues, smirking. “He looks four parts ready to jump you there and then and six parts ready to commit his entire life to you if you simply ask him to.”

Marco wants to shake his head, but he also wants it to be true. He likes Ace, really likes Ace, and not just as a superficial attraction. He’s spent more nights sitting up talking about nothing in particular with Ace than anyone else in his entire life. He feels happy with Ace. He even feels like he could live in this world forever, forget about that man and his old life, as long as he has Ace.

Marco doesn’t even know if that’s healthy. He doesn’t want to depend on Ace too much, but they seem to click so well. When Ace does leave, and Marco knows the day will come, he’ll miss him terribly.

“And you’re just as taken with him as he is with you, don’t you even think about denying it,” Shanks finishes, and Marco rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to,” he says simply, and a lecherous smile spreads across Shanks’ face. Marco doesn’t want to know what’s going through his mind, and he decides he has to be honest with Shanks to understand what’s going on.

“He replaced my old tantō,” Marco says, reaching under the folds of his clothing to pull out the exquisite blade. It really is a master’s work. Even his old tantō, one that had been an heirloom to his family, hadn’t been as nice as this one. Ace really went all out, and the blade feels warm, loved, in Marco’s hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Shanks says, fingers smoothing over wood and metal. “A declaration of love!” he calls, though he is only half-serious. Marco rolls his eyes and tucks his tantō away carefully, thinking back to the wary look on Ace’s face as he’d handed over his gift.

“I care too much,” Marco admits, running his hands over his eyes. He buries his fingers into his hair and tugs lightly, trying to ground himself.

“No such thing,” Shanks mutters, resting a head on the palm of one hand as he looks at Marco. The gesture, for some reason, calms Marco, and he summons courage he wasn’t aware of before.

“I’m going to do something for him,” Marco decides. He knows what he needs to do. He knows how he can fix the tense bond between them. “I’m going to make things okay.”

Shanks waves goodbye, cheerfully calling out obscenities that make people turn around sharply. Marco rolls his eyes and sets a course for home. Ace should be in today: in fact all of them should. They are supposed to be looking at some information Sabo has found about dimension travel, but Marco is sure he can steal Ace for a few hours.

See, when Ace gave him the tantō, he exposed himself fully. Marco has yet to make any move to even hint how he feels. He thinks he understands why Ace has been so snappish lately. It’s not about the kiss, but what’s behind the kiss – or rather what Marco failed to show.  
He can fix this, he thinks. He must fix it. Marco doesn’t think he can say goodbye to Ace just yet.

Thatch greets him merrily as Marco enters the house. Luffy comes running to his side too, a brightly coloured (terrible) drawing of what Marco thinks might be Thatch shoved under his nose.

“I got bored,” Luffy says flatly, snatching his drawing back and wandering off. It’s how Luffy greets people, and it’s how he judges them. Marco trusts his judgement a lot and likes Luffy. In fact, he likes all three of them. If they ended up stuck in this world then perhaps…

Marco shakes his head, clearing the thoughts. He has somewhere he needs to get back to. Someone he has to meet. He has no time to be entertaining notions he’ll stay here for his entire life. How long would that be anyway? Decades? Centuries? Marco shuddered at the thought.

He waits a little before he goes to Ace. He packs up some sandwiches and drinks, setting his bag by the front door. After that, there is no more excuse for Marco to not talk to Ace, so he moves to their room, knocking quietly.

Sabo slides the door open, raising an eyebrow at Marco’s uneasy smile. Sabo’s always been a hard one for Marco to read, but he smiles, nods, and steps out of the way.

“Marco’s here for you,” he calls to Ace. Ace looks over, frowning, and stands up with a sigh. He stands before Marco with a blank face, and Marco smiles tightly.

“I was thinking we should go somewhere,” he says, before adding, “just you and me.”

Marco thinks he can see a scowl form on Luffy’s face, but he ignores it, focusing on Ace. Ace shrugs, turning around and, for a moment, Marco thinks he’s about to sit back down and ignore Marco. Instead, much to Marco’s relief, he grabs a jacket and nods tightly. He’s not happy, but Marco thinks that they both want the air cleared between them. They can only do that by talking.

They set out on the moped, Ace cradling their tiny picnic between them. Marco doesn’t have a set destination in mind, but as they drive further away from the towns, he thinks of a place that will be suitable. It’s secluded and beautiful, and he thinks Ace will like it.

They leave Marco’s moped at the edge of the corn field. No one will take it, even if there were other people around here. The sun is still high in the sky, and Marco nods to himself, leaving his helmet by the moped.

“It’s down here,” he says, and he leads Ace through the cornfield. The corn scratches his skin, though it’s only around elbow-height, and he can hear Ace’s annoyance. They continue on, though, and Marco takes them to the edge of the field. There’s space between the adjacent field of flowers and the cornfield, and this is where Marco sits down, placing the picnic bag before him.

Ace is a little more hesitant to sit, but he sighs eventually and complies, reaching instantly for some food.

“Things have been a bit tense between us,” Marco says, and Ace looks at him sharply, as if he hadn’t been expecting Marco to address the issue at all. Marco shrugs, reaching for his own sandwich. “You’ve done a lot for me, given a lot to me, and I’ve taken it for granted.”

Marco bites into his sandwich, but it tastes like cardboard to him. He’s too nervous to enjoy it and chews mechanically, the words he wants – needs – to say catching in his throat.

“I want to tell you everything,” he manages out, and it’s not what Ace has been thinking he’d hear, judging by the way he coughs around a mouthful of bread. “You deserve to know everything.”

Ace really does, Marco thinks. Ace is the only one who will understand, he’s come to realise. No one else truly understands other worlds like Marco does, perhaps aside from Whitebeard. Marco can never be so open with Whitebeard though. Whitebeard already knows everything anyway, it was never Marco’s secret to divulge. Now he can tell his story on his own terms, and he’s chosen to share it with Ace.

“Why me?” Ace asks, and he looks shaken by the prospect of the truth.

“Because you will understand,” Marco replies simply, knowing that to be true with every inch of his mind. Ace will understand what he has to say. There is a bond between them, and if Marco wants to grow closer, act upon his emotions, then he needs Ace to know everything.

“Before you say anything,” Ace says, swallowing the last remains of his sandwich. “I need to tell you more. If you’re going to tell me everything, then I need to do the same.”

He leans forward slightly, and Marco gets lost in the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck and the silent strength he possesses. Ace brings a hand up to run through his hair, and Marco is fixated by the way he moves. Marco doesn’t quite believe in love, but he thinks that with time, Ace is a man he could love.

He blinks, looks away and swallows his sandwich. Marco tucks the remainder away and leans back, looking up at the sky. He’ll hear what Ace has to say then, and then he’ll share the parts of himself he’s kept hidden.

“I’ve lived at an organisation called the Shrine my entire life,” Ace begins, fondness for the Shrine evident in his smile. There is a little sadness there, but it seems Ace genuinely loves the place he grew up. Marco can’t help but think that they are two very different people.

“It’s the training facility for dimensional travel. The priests at the Shrine move between the twelve worlds to maintain balance,” Ace clarifies, and Marco nods. He’s heard of the Shrine before, but not in too much detail.

“My teacher was the best,” Ace says, and Marco can hear the pride in his voice. He smiles, wind picking up around them. It’s gentle, comforting, and Marco watches Ace as he talks.

“Inari came from another world I think,” Ace says, frowning slightly. “I know he’s my biological father, but even if he wasn’t, that wouldn’t matter. I’d think of him as a father anyway.”

Marco nods slowly. He wonders what it must be like to have such faith in one person that your ties to them hardly matter. He wonders if he’ll think of Ace with so much love one day and hopes.

“I learnt everything I could from him, but he vanished when I was younger. The head of the Shrine changed and, well,” Ace shrugs. “He left.”

There’s sadness there, but Marco can tell it’s without bitterness. He thinks Ace is an enigma. Marco still can’t cope with being abandoned, but Ace has simply taken it in stride and moved beyond it.

“I’ve been looking for him ever since. I’ve heard whispers here and there, about a man with amazing powers, but I’ve never been able to find him.” Ace sighs, and a sinking feeling creeps into Marco’s stomach. Fate couldn’t be so cruel, could it?

“There’s someone else too, though I don’t know if I’ll ever see them at all.” Ace smiles, lost to a memory only he knows, and Marco’s fingers tighten around the grass they lay on. He’s ripping them slowly from the ground, hoping his sickening feeling will be washed away with Ace’s next words.

“I’m looking for a black rabbit,” he says, and Marco has to turn away. He can’t look at Ace right now, not when he can feel bile in the back of his throat. Of all the people to be looking for, Ace has to be looking for them. He wants to laugh, wants to cry, but he can do neither.

Instead, he feels an opportunity. Marco has a good idea where the rabbit may be, and if he finds the rabbit then he can find the man. He’s never been able to put his theory to the test, but Ace might have the means to find her.

“I know them,” Marco announces, and he tries not to look at Ace. He can feel excitement radiating from Ace, though, and thinks that his simple sentence is enough to clear the air. He won’t come up short though, he made a promise to himself to tell Ace the truth and while it’ll be the hardest path he’s walked, Marco will uphold his vow.

“I can help you find them,” he says, and this time he does look at Ace. Ace’s eyes are wide and he looks shocked, but he leans closer, nodding at Marco’s words. “On one condition.”

Ace’s lips part, and Marco tries not to think of their kiss and how he would very much like to kiss Ace again.

“Anything,” Ace rushes out, and Marco wonders how he’s inspired so much trust, even with their strained bond of late. But Ace really does trust him, Marco knows, but he’s not sure why. He’s not done anything to inspire Ace or win him over. The thought confuses Marco, but it settles proudly on his shoulders. Perhaps he is worth a lot more than he thinks.

“You have to kill me,” he says, and remains steady as Ace shakes his head, laughing. He thinks it’s a joke, but Ace hasn’t heard what Marco has to say yet. He hasn’t heard Marco’s story and he has no idea what Marco feels.

“Marco,” Ace begins, laughter fading from his face as he realises that Marco is serious. “What do you mean?”

Marco shakes his head to clear his thoughts, wondering how he should start. He pauses, reaches for his drink, then begins.

“I wasn’t born in this world,” he says, and Ace nods. Ace already knows that of course. “I was brought here by a man and a woman, two gods, who took me in when my clan was slaughtered.”

Ace shows sympathy in the way his lips downturn, but there is no pity. Marco is thankful. He takes a sip of his drink and returns to his story.

“I don’t know who attacked my clan. All I remember is seeing them around me and knowing that I was going to die too.” Marco looks down. All he can remember is the earth, churned up from the rain and people trying to flee death. He remembers the way a blade had sliced into him, tearing through him as if he was nothing. Marco remembers feeling his life slip away, and remembers feeling at peace.

“The next thing I know, I was in a woman’s arms. She was nothing like my mother, but she seemed nice. I was still dying, but I thought it would be okay to die in her arms.” Marco smiles sadly. “I think I would have done anything for her, she looked so sad.”

Marco remembers her like that the most. He remembers tears streaming down her face as she tries to will him to survive, and Marco remembers smiling return. He would have done anything to wipe the sadness from her, he knows, and he had.

“She offered me something and I ate it.” Marco presses his lips together, remembering the pulpy flesh of the pomegranate. It had tasted like ambrosia, something only a god could conjure up. Never has Marco tasted anything as sweet or filling, and he hopes he never will.

“I didn’t realise at first,” Marco says, staring at the grass in front of him. He thinks he can see an ant meandering through grass stalks and he tries to follow it. He doesn’t want to look at Ace as he discusses this part. This is the darkest part of his soul, after all.

“I woke up. I remember waking up and realising that I had survived. I remember thinking that I was okay, that I was lucky, and that I should be thankful.” Marco closes his eyes, remembering how he’d felt when he woke up. No matter how much time passes, he’ll always remember the feeling.

“And then I realised my family were dead. I saw my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins – everyone – dead. I should have died,” Marco says, bitterness creeping into his voice. “I should have died, and there was no miracle that saved me.”

Marco takes a deep, shaky breath, looking up at the sky.

“I’d just been given a tantō for my birthday. It was a family heirloom, a blade that the bravest warriors of my clan had used.” Marco scrunches his eyes up, remembering the weight of the blade in a child’s hand and how he’d turned that hand on himself. “I tried to kill myself,” he says softly, and he hears Ace inhale sharply.

In fact, Marco thinks, he has a scar to prove it. It’s a thin line across his stomach now, only noticeable in the right light, but he knows it’s there. It’s a constant reminder of who he was and who he is now.

“I can’t die,” Marco says, smiling tightly. “I remember lying on the floor, bleeding out, and then my wound patched itself back up.”

He remembers their look of horror when they’d found him. She had rushed over instantly, snatching the blade from Marco’s hand. She’d cut herself, of course, but she’d pulled Marco to herself anyway, holding him close and telling him it would be okay, ignoring the cut on her palm. He had just watched from the background, as if he’d known what would happen all along.

“I can’t die,” Marco says, and his body shudders with the admission. He barely thinks about it, let alone articulates it, and he hates himself. His skin crawls, and he reaches for his drink just to have something to distract himself.

“I’m only alive because they made me immortal. I’m a human who’s tasted the fruit of the gods, and yet I stand unpunished.” Marco shakes his head as Ace opens his mouth. He’s not ready to hear it. If Ace speaks, Marco will stop.

“They created this world and brought me here,” Marco says. He doesn’t need to get into details. He remembers hating his life for a long time, though he accepted the kindness and love shown towards him. He remembers her more fondly than he does him, but that’s because the god was a man who didn’t like to interfere. Or so he said.

“They left though,” Marco says. He doesn’t care if he skips out the details, he needs to say what he has to say. He’s not there to tell an entire story, and Ace can ask questions later, if Marco feels he can answer them. A lot of this story isn’t for Marco to tell anyway. He doesn’t know a lot of it either, such is a child’s memory.

“I was made the head of this world, given power that would help me govern. Whitebeard joined me and raised me to be who I am today. He is my real family,” Marco says, and he’ll always stand by that. Whitebeard is the one who’s been there for him, the one who’s supported Marco his entire life. He’s the one who raised Marco.

Marco understands why he was left alone, but that doesn’t make it right. They could have taken him with them. His stomach twists, and Marco looks at Ace, wanting something here and now, something that he needs to work on. Something he can save.

“Whitebeard is the only person I’ve been able to love,” Marco explains, and Ace nods. He might not understand fully – Marco’s story is patchy after all – but he seems to understand the important parts. He hasn’t gone running either, and Marco appreciates that.

He has to be brave one more time.

“Until now,” he adds, and Marco is brave enough only to speak the words. He can’t look Ace in the eye, and he focuses on a patch of daisies just by Ace’s knee. It’s silent around them, and Marco thinks he might have done something terrible.

“What do you mean?” Ace says. The words are rushed, as if he needs to know right now, and Marco has to look at him. What he sees takes him back a little, and he pauses. Ace looks on the verge of something, thought Marco isn’t sure if it’s something slightly mad or amazing.

Whatever it is, it gives Marco courage.

“I don’t know if I understand love,” he begins, and he can see Ace hanging on every word. His fingers uncurl from the grass he pulled up earlier and he lets the grass fall to the floor, forgotten as his attention is for Ace only.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever understand it,” Marco continues. “But I know that if there’s anyone I can truly love, that person will be you.”

His words seem to knock everything out of Ace, and Marco wonders if perhaps he was too forward. He opens his mouth, closes it, then settles for taking some of his drink.

“That is why I want you to be the one to kill me,” Marco finishes. He can see the refusal in Ace’s eyes and realises that their concepts of death are not the same.

“I want you to help me shed my immortality,” Marco clarifies, and while Ace still looks wary, he seems more open to listening now. He narrows his eyes and looks down.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he mutters, and Marco smiles. That’s what he’s expected, and he hums softly.

“I will only help you under those terms,” he says, and Ace shakes his head. It is a harsh bargain, but Marco needs to become normal. If he wants to leave this world he needs to lose his immortality. He needs to be a regular human, not a man who has stolen powers from the gods.

“I refuse,” Ace says, but he is grinning. This is nothing that Marco thought it could be, and he looks on in confusion. What is Ace thinking now?

“We’ll find them together,” he says, and Marco wonders if his words have power. He can feel himself believing in Ace, whether he wants to or now. “We’ll find them and sit down. We’ll sort this out, both of us together, and you won’t have to be alone anymore.”

Ace’s hand finds Marco’s. Marco isn’t sure when he moved forwards or quite how his hand pressed in the gap between them, but he is glad for it as Ace’s fingers smooth over his knuckles.

“If you want to cure yourself of immortality, then I’ll help you,” Ace vows, and he moves closer and closer to Marco with every word. Their hands are resting on Ace’s thigh now, as he kneels before Marco.

“I refuse to kill any part of you, however,” he finishes, and Marco lets out a breath. He feels as though a great wave has washed over him, and he feels pure. He believes in Ace, and Marco wonders if he really doesn’t need to kill part of himself.

It’s not so much the immortality that Marco wants rid of. It’s the only way he can explain it to Ace, though, which is why he referred to it as such. What he really wants rid of is the uncertainty within himself. Ever since he learnt he is immortal, there’s been an uneasiness in his stomach, as if he’ll fall apart without warning. Marco doesn’t feel like a proper person, doesn’t feel complete, and he wants Ace to help him be free of that. He doesn’t know if he can do that, but Ace has defied the impossible before, so Marco thinks it’s worth a try.

He opens his mouth to say something, but his words are lost when he looks into Ace’s dark eyes. For some inexplicable reason, Marco feels as if Ace knows everything about him in that instant, and he knows he can’t let this moment slip. Marco has to do something, so he does, closing the space between them and kissing Ace softly. His hands wander from Ace’s thigh to grip his hips, pulling him closer. Ace shuffles even more, until he’s on Marco’s lap, and he has no qualms about kissing Marco exactly as Marco’s imagined.

Of course Marco has thought about this moment. He’s thought about everything from stroking Ace’s hair out of his face to fucking him over the kitchen counter, but he’d never thought he’d get the opportunity to actually do the former, let alone any fucking. They part, and he takes a shaky breath, opening eyes he hadn’t realised he’d closed. 

“Ace,” he says, voice low. Marco can see that Ace’s eyes are dark and knows that there’s only one way they can keep going. “Are you sure?”

Ace nods, and he seems nervous suddenly, as if he doubts he’s done the right thing. Marco wants to kick himself, how can he have put doubts in Ace’s head? He wants this as much as Ace. He smiles, hoping to ease some of Ace’s worries, before he moves a hand upwards, smoothing over Ace’s ribs and shoulder, until he’s cupping Ace’s cheek.

“I want this more than anything,” Marco says, and he can see any lingering doubt Ace has vanish. He feels Ace move his hands down, slipping behind Marco’s back, and then Ace is kissing him again, and Marco thinks it’s unfair that Ace has kissed him more than the other way around. He’ll just have to spend a lot of time trying to outnumber him.

Marco is hardly experienced, but he can feel that what he has with Ace is different to a quick fumble. Ace pulls back, but Marco doesn’t let him go for too long, kissing him slowly, running his tongue across Ace’s lip before grazing it gently with his teeth. He hears Ace let out a sharp breath and smiles, kissing the side of Ace’s mouth, down to his jaw and then his neck. 

Ace’s skin is soft, and he feels Ace shudder as he trails his was down his jugular, planting wet, possessive kisses. He has Ace all to himself, and he plans to make the most of it from now on, and he senses that Ace is just as agreeable as his fantasies have suggested.

“Stop,” Ace says, tilting his hips, and Marco can feel his hardness, “teasing!” Marco grins, letting his teeth trace Ace’s pulse for a moment, before he pulls away, looking into Ace’s eyes. He feels his stomach twinge as Ace shifts in his lap, brushing his hard cock, and Marco swallows slowly.

“I want you,” Marco whispers, and Ace lets out a shaky breath, wobbly smile on his face as his teeth catch his lower lip. He nods eagerly as Marco runs the tip of his finger over his crotch, glad that Ace is wearing loose trousers. They’re easily pulled down, and Ace looks vulnerable as he sits back down, trousers down just enough to let his cock out.

“You’re gorgeous,” Marco says, and he smiles at the flush that covers Ace’s cheeks with his words. Part of him wants to ruin Ace in the best way possible, have him unable to form any words but Marco’s name, but that is for another time (and place). Ace has already given him so much, and Marco wants to give Ace something now.

The first touch he makes sends Ace sighing, moving a hand back to steady himself on the ground while allowing his hips to move. Marco can tell he already wants to thrust, but Marco isn’t ready for Ace to take control. He wants to teach him first, make him feel as amazing as Marco sees him.

He runs his thumb over the tip of Ace’s cock, smearing pre-come down the length. Ace jerks as Marco moves his hand, and his eyes lock on Marco’s. He groans, smiling, and throws his head back. It’s an invitation, and Marco kisses his neck as he moves his hand around Ace’s cock, jerking him off slowly.

Ace leans into him, hips jolting in time to press into Marco’s hand. His head rests against Marco’s shoulder, and Marco can hear the change in his breathing as he moves his hand. He learns what Ace likes, a slight turn of his wrist here and there, his other hand massaging Ace’s balls, thumb circling the head, and Ace is completely under his ministrations, hands gripping Marco’s arms. 

Marco doesn’t slow, even when Ace says his name in a rush, a clear warning he is about to come. His head moves back, and there’s a wild look in his eyes as he kisses Marco, panting when he does come, breathing heavily and sighing as Marco slows his hand, unconcerned his clothes are covered in come.

“Sorry,” Ace says when he’s recovered enough. He shifts, pulling his trousers back up, and Marco can tell he’s not sorry at all by the grin on his face. “It’s getting late,” he says, and Marco raises an eyebrow. It’s not really – and then he realises why Ace is suggesting they get back.

Marco doesn’t think he’s ever pushed his moped as hard as he does then to get back home. Ace is pressed against his back, and yes Ace, he can feel his cock there, and no Ace, he can’t return the favour when they’re driving for fuck’s sake (though Marco’s close to throwing his hands up and letting Ace do it anyway – he can’t exactly die so what can the harm be?), and then they’re close to home enough that they’d just be wasting time if they did fool around right now and then. Marco is impressed at his self-control, really, and they enter the house quietly. No one’s around, not even Thatch, and Marco leads Ace to his room, barely just closed the door when Ace is there, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him.

“There should be a rule,” Ace says as Marco pushes him back to the bed. “A rule that states we have to kiss every few minutes, or I might seriously die.”

Marco laughs, letting Ace kick his trousers off and remove his shirt. Ace then glares at him, and Marco gets the message, shedding his own clothes in a heap, before they’re pressed together again, and maybe Ace does have a point about this new rule. It will be a terrible thing if they can’t kiss every few minutes. 

“I want to try something,” Ace says, and Marco isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t Ace switching their positions, moving between Marco’s legs and then taking his cock in his mouth. His hips jerk in surprise, and Ace pulls back with a cough, frown on his face.

“Sorry,” Marco says quickly, and Ace nods, lowering his mouth again. Marco groans as Ace tries a different approach, kissing the base of Marco’s cock gently, tongue darting out as he moves his way upwards. His head falls back as Ace takes all of him again, this time slower. He’s a little unsure but seems to be spurred on whenever Marco’s breath hitches. 

It’s clear this is Ace’s first time giving head, and while he’s a little clumsy, teeth catching every now and then, and pulling back before he goes down too far, it’s more than Marco could ever have dreamt of. He sighs, warmth spiking in his lower abdomen, and resists the urge to thread his fingers in Ace’s hair. Ace moves his tongue, swirling the head of Marco’s cock, and Marco tilts his hips slightly, pushing his cock further down. Ace’s mouth feels amazing, and Marco wonders how much more they’ll get to do before the morning, and then Ace moans.

Marco looks down in surprise, eyebrows shooting up as he sees Ace touching himself, eyes closed. He lets Marco’s cock fall from his mouth with a wet pop, and Marco can see his cock resting against Ace’s cheek, bobbing in time with Ace’s hand against his own dick. 

“Marco,” Ace groans, pressing against Marco’s cock, tongue darting out as if he’s trying to suck Marco off again, but it’s too late for that. Seeing Ace in such a state after having his cock in his mouth is all Marco needs, and he comes before he realises what’s happening, closing his eyes tightly and letting his head fall back on the bed. 

When he feels strength to look up, Marco’s disappointed to see that Ace managed to finish himself off. He’s wiping Marco’s come from his cheek though, a look half-curious and half-disgusted on his face. Marco laughs, pulls Ace closer, and uses the corner of the covers to wipe his face, kissing him as soon as he’s done.

“I have more things I want to try,” Ace says, devious look on his face. Marco raises an eyebrow, pulling Ace against his side as he hums in agreement. 

“There’s a lot of time before the sun rises,” he says, and Ace shifts, moving on top of Marco to kiss him slowly, tongue smoothing over Marco’s mouth.

Marco wonders why they waited this long.


	5. Past II [Rouge]

The best stories, so they say, begin ‘once upon a time’. Rouge has never thought those stories were the best, though, and she knows so many more that are far more enchanting than mere fairy tales.

She wasn’t there at the start, but she knows it so well that she might as well have been. There was a boy, born to the creator of the worlds, who grew to wield the power of life. He was a kind boy, the sort that grows into a gentle man, but the world treated him cruelly.

Rouge remembers hearing the ways the world turned its back on the boy. He was made an outcast, sentenced to live his life on the outskirts of the village. When he grew, power bubbling inside of him, the man moved to the mountains, seeking solitude from the world. He grew strong, Rouge learned, and he grew lonely.

That is how she came to exist. The power of life extends to all things the man creates, and so it wasn’t hard for him to draw a companion, an ink black rabbit. This was how Rouge was made.

She spends years watching the man from the fusuma. He is kind still, despite the loneliness, but she can see him fading. Rouge knows he will lose himself, and her heart beats frantically against her chest at the thought. She tries to peel herself off of the fusuma, tries to reach the man’s side and press her tiny body to his foot. She wishes she can show him the tiniest things she sees in him, but all she can do is move about the fusuma like a common rabbit, entertaining the man as she runs through fields of gently-swaying flowers the man has drawn for her.

When he sleeps, the man sleeps before her, and Rouge watches over him. She likes to think she can take away some of his pain as he is sleeping, that she can heal the wounds that the mortal people in this world have delivered. She isn’t sure she is capable of such things, but Rouge knows deep within herself that one day, one day, she will make a difference.

The man builds her a city. It is beautiful, and she can see the want in his eyes. This is where the man wants to be, a beautiful world where no one needs to be alone. His fingers touch the fusuma gently, and Rouge follows him as he walks around the room, telling her stories of the world. He always calls it their world, naming her as its queen, and Rouge wants to laugh. She isn’t much good for ruling stuck as a rabbit drawing.

Things change, Rouge comes to find. It’s late one night, and she is watching the man from a flower field. She can see the rise and fall of his chest and Rouge wonders what it feels like to touch another’s warmth, to feel love properly and not just from a distance. She closes her eyes, and her body stills, golden light surrounding her.

Rouge isn’t sure what is happening and she opens her eyes. Kyōto – both their Kyōto and the cruel one the man lives in – has vanished. Rouge feels as if she is floating, limbs hanging below her body as she sees a woman before her. Rouge knows who she is before the woman speaks and hastens to bow her head to the Bodhisattva. The woman smiled, reaching out tenderly to stroke Rouge’s rabbit ears, and pulls Rouge to her breast.

“You’ve always kept watch over him,” she says, and Rouge can feel her warmth. She wonders if this is what it would feel like if she was able to touch the man, and she nods.

“I can see your desire,” the Bodhisattva says gently, and she places the tip of her finger right between Rouge’s eyes. A prickly feeling spreads through Rouge’s body, and she shudders, closing her eyes as a shiver passes through her.

“Your loyalty and love is to be rewarded,” the woman says, and Rouge feels her press a kiss over the spot her finger had been. It’s warmth this time that spreads through her, and Rouge takes a deep lungful of air, as if she’s breathing for the first time. Her body feels strange, and she opens her eyes, the Bodhisattva smiling softly.

“There are conditions of course, and once you have given your love you must return this form,” she says, and Rouge lets her body float. It’s heavier than before, and she is scared to look down at herself. She does anyway, summoning up the courage of a great beast rather than that which belongs to a rabbit, and tears prick her eyes as she sees pale limbs, human limbs, stretched out before her.

“Thank you,” she whispers, though she knows the woman has gone already. “Thank you!”

Though there are conditions on how she uses this body, Rouge will never be able to thank the Bodhisattva enough for what she has done. Rouge feels elation rise in her chest and she wakes with a joyous laugh, red hair spilling over her shoulders as she moved to cover her mouth.

The noise is still too much, though, and the man wakes with a start. He moves first for a knife Rouge knows he keeps on his person at all times, and she watches him with wide eyes. He looks at her, mouth falling open, before she finds herself covered in his sleeping blankets, the man turned away.

“Why is a naked woman in my house?” he says, and Rouge looks under the blankets. She’s always been naked so she never noticed the difference. Instead of black fur there’s now human skin, so much human skin, and she flushes a little.

“It’s my house too,” she says, picking one of the blankets up and wrapping it around herself. She isn’t sure why the man doesn’t recognise her, but she feels disappointed. Perhaps if he looks at her, he’ll understand.

“I’ve always lived here,” she says, moving towards the man slowly. It’s strange to walk on two feet, but Rouge has no serious problem managing it. She wonders briefly if she was destined for this, if she has always meant to live in a human’s body.

“You’re the rabbit!” the man says when he finally does look at her, and Rouge smiles, proudly. She knew she could trust him, and he takes one of her hands, fingers gentle as he inspects her hand.

“You’re perfect,” he says, then clears his throat and moves away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he says and moves to one of the cupboards where Rouge knows spare bedding is kept. He sets her bed up, returning to fetch a shirt and soft trousers for her. Rouge recognises them as his favourite, and she looks at him first, asking permission to touch the clothing.

“I want you to have them,” the man says, and Rouge takes them gently. “I’ll go to town tomorrow to buy you some proper clothes,” he promises, and Rouge smiles. Her fingers brush his as she reaches for the shirt, and Rouge startles. Roger looks guilty, as if he’s done something terrible by touching her, and she thinks he will run away if she doesn’t say something. 

“You’re so warm,” she says softly, eyes wide. For all she’s imagined in her fusuma world, it wasn’t this. The man is so warm and full of love that Rouge isn’t sure how she will ever cope being human. She feels full and she shakes her head, wiping her eyes.

“My name is Rouge,” she says, and the man nods, turning to light some more lanterns, all thoughts of sleep abandoned. “I’ve watched over you for a long time.”  
She slips the clothes on as the man turns around, settling in her bed and preparing to show this man how much she cares for him, how much she has wished for this opportunity her entire life. Rouge wants to show him that he is worthy of love.

“My name is Roger,” the man replies, and the way he smiles shows Rouge that he has just as much to tell her as she does him.

.

Rouge runs her hands over the drawings on the fusuma, smiling as her favourite meadow sways gently, as if welcoming her back. Roger is out at the moment, and she has the run of the house. She’s cleaned and prepared dinner, and she is keeping a close eye on the storm raging outside. She hasn’t closed the house down entirely, but it won’t be long before she’s forced to place shutters over the windows and look for any leaks in the house.

Rouge turns from the Mirror World and picks out a book from the vast selection Roger has brought home for her. They’ve been collecting for years now and most of the books are dog-eared and well-loved, but Rouge still treats them as treasures she’s never seen before. They are her treasures, anything from Roger is a treasure still. She smiles softly, but it fades as a huge clap of thunder sounds overhead.

Something is wrong. Rouge can feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she moves to open the doors of the house, staring into the woods that surround them. Her instincts as a rabbit never dulled, and Rouge always knows when something is wrong.

Methodically – and she’s done this more times than she’s happy to admit – Rouge takes the medical supplies out from their cupboard and begins preparing clean water and cloths. By the time she hears Roger’s voice calling, Rouge is prepared and she walks into the rain with a hardened expression, prepared – as she always is – for the worst.

It’s not Roger this time, though. He is carrying a boy, one who cannot be much older than seven or so, and there is desperation on his face. Rouge spins on her heel, casting aside blankets from her bed and calling for Roger to set the boy down.

The wound is terrible, Rouge thinks, and she wipes a stray piece of hair away with bloodied fingers. There is no end to the blood, and she thinks that the boy is going to bleed out before she can do anything. Rouge hisses out a breath and redoubles her efforts at stitching the gaping wound over the boy’s stomach, trying not to think about how it came to be. It’s a clean wound at least, but the blood is endless.

She knows there’s nothing they can do, but she continues still. Rouge works and works, hardly noticing the boy is drifting from them until Roger lays a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s almost gone,” Roger says, and Rouge grits her jaw. She’s seen the dead before, adults and children alike, but she cannot give up on this one.

“No,” she says, and there is fire burning through her body, determination rising. She can fix this. Rouge can heal this child, she can bring him back from the darkness.

“No,” Roger repeats, and there is a hurried motion around Rouge as he grasps for his ink. She wants to watch, wants to see what is so important that Roger has to create it now, but she is too busy trying to stop the blood. How can one child lose so much?

“Get him to eat this,” Roger says, returning to Rouge with a round fruit. The seeds inside sparkle like rubies, and Rouge almost gasps, knowing what this gift is. The child will live, she thinks, and that is what matters.

Rouge presses the pomegranate to the child’s lips, pressing the seeds through the line of his teeth. They won’t choke the child, there is nothing that can stop the turning of the world’s wheels now, and she scoops out as many glittering seeds as she can, forcing them into the child’s mouth. It is worth it, she thinks, and she pulls away slowly, reluctant to let nature take its course.

Roger takes the remainder of the pomegranate as it dulls, its work complete. The boy is still beneath her hands as she continues to clean the wound, and she is pleased to see that the blood flow has staunched. The boy will live, immortality their gift to this child.

“There’s been a war,” Roger says bitterly, while Rouge cleans her hands and disposes of soiled cloths outside. They’ll burn them in a bit, she thinks, and shakes her head, trying not to think of the war raging on the mountain below them.

“He was alone, bleeding out in the mud,” Roger says, and Rouge wipes her hands dry. They are still pink, still a little stained, and she wonders briefly if they’ll ever be clean.

“You did the right thing,” Rouge says, pressing a palm to Roger’s cheek. He draws her close, kisses her gently, before Rouge moves back to the house. She knows what caused the boy’s wound, and she knows he might not believe their conviction that they did the right thing. He will believe, eventually. Being alive it worth so much more than being dead.

It happens, as Rouge suspected it would. The boy wakes with a bone-chilling scream and reaches for the blade they’d taken from him. Roger’s in the room when Rouge rushes to see the commotion, and her face pales as the boy tries to take his own life, again and again. The blade comes away blood when he removes it from his stomach, but he is immortal now. He will bleed and bleed and bleed, but it will never be enough.

“You did this,” the boy says, sounding so old for one so young. Roger is unmovable, and he nods, taking the tantō from the boy’s hands slowly.

“I did,” he says, and Rouge keeps to the shadows. She can see the boy’s hatred as clear as day and knows that if she wants to be a friend (a mother, a voice whispers), she needs to stay out of this. “And I would do it again if I had to.”

The boy’s face breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he curls into a ball. Roger set the tantō down beside him, moving away to where Rouge is.

“He will be alright,” he says with a soft smile, and Rouge kisses the lines around his mouth. She is full of love, both for Roger and this child, and she knows that despite the boy’s pain, Roger’s decision was the right one.

It takes weeks for the boy to learn to trust them, and even then the flicker of hatred he feels for Roger always remains. He is open with Rouge, however, and accepts the animal companions Roger draws for him. Rouge thinks that he does love Roger, but he will never be able to fully accept him.

Rouge is fixing some clothes when the boy tells her his name.

“I’m called Marco,” he says, and Rouge smiles. She pats his hand gently, passes him a new shirt to fix up, and promises she’ll make his favourite meal for dinner.

Things get easier after that. Marco grows, and it’s all Rouge can do to keep up altering his clothes so he can be comfortable. Marco’s days are spent chasing their dog around the mountains, bringing back armfuls of food he’s foraged off of the forests. He helps Rouge and even sits through Roger’s lessons, eagerly absorbing anything and everything. Their family isn’t perfect, but it’s Rouge’s family, and she loves both Roger and Marco dearly.

It’s midday when Marco returns home, and Rouge instantly knows something is wrong. The dog is barking, and she stands, dropping her book on medicinal plants, blanching as she sees blood flowing from a cut on Marco’s forehead. His nose wrinkles, and Rouge takes his hand gently, cleaning the wound. It won’t need sewing, and she questions Marco, worry curling in her stomach when he reveals how he obtained the wound, that the people nearby are growing restless and clearly have no hesitations about attacking their family anymore, stooping to harm a defenceless child.

“It’s not safe here anymore,” Rouge says when Roger returns. He’s carrying a stack of firewood, and he grimaces, head low. Rouge thinks he’s always known there will be a time when this would happen, and she hopes he has an answer. She’ll follow him anywhere if it means they will all be safe.

When Roger’s eyes flicker to the fusuma, Rouge knows what his answer is. Her eyebrows shoot upwards, and she feels Marco start in confusion.

“You can do that?” Rouge asks, and Roger narrows his eyes, as if considering his power. It’s a yes then, Rouge thinks, for if he has to consider it, Roger knows he has the capability to do it.

“Say Marco,” Roger says, and Rouge’s chest warms at how much love is dripping from those simple words. “How would you like to see somewhere special? It has more places to explore than here.”

Marco’s eyes are bright, the perfect combination of a child on the edge of adolescence. He nods, taking Rouge’s hand gently, and Roger grins.

“Everyone grab what you need!” he calls loudly, and Marco shouts in joy, running to grab his favourite books and toys. Roger begins packing clothes, and Rouge sends a fond look to her favourite cooking pot, her books, and a dress Roger made for her a few years ago. They’ll be coming with her, whether she’s to be queen or not.

Roger’s hands are soft and gentle as he places them on the fusuma. Marco takes her hand and shifts excitedly as the world begins to move, coming alive properly for the first time. Rouge is reminded of her time as a rabbit, running through the Mirror World, but this will be so much more. Roger can create life, and he’s created an entire world just to keep them safe.

Though there were promises Rouge would be queen, in actual fact her role is very much the same as it’s always been. The people of the world – and they are real people, Rouge doesn’t quite understand how, but they are as real as the people in the world they have left behind – are respectful, knowing that Roger maintains the balance of their world, protecting their world from outside influences and those that would destroy it. They are kind too, and since they stepped into this world, Rouge has seen Marco learning so much more than in the world they left.

“He’ll be a fine man,” Rouge says one night. Marco is staying at a friend’s house, and Roger is curled at her side, sleepily peering at her in their nest of covers and pillows. Rouge strokes his cheek fondly, closing her eyes. She takes Roger’s hand, sliding her fingers between the gaps of his and resting his palm against her stomach.

“Rouge,” Roger says, pulling his hand back in surprise. Rouge smiles, rolling over to face Roger. His eyes are wide, jaw slack, but at her nod he smiles, jumping out of bed and pacing the room, practically vibrating with joy.

“Rouge!” he says, laughter echoing through their room. She sits up, covers sliding from her body to reveal a slight curve over her stomach, a firmness there that reveals her secret. She is pregnant, can feel the life of her child flourishing, and she cannot wait to tell Marco.

When she says as much to Roger, he stills, shoulders drooping and smile faltering. Rouge frowns, pulling him back to bed with a thousand questions, worry clawing at her as Roger hangs his head.

They can’t stay in the Mirror World, he says. It’s the words Rouge has never wanted to hear, though she knows why. If she remains here, she will fade. Her child may live, but Rouge certainly wouldn’t. She would be cast back to her original form and, though it is selfish, she cannot bear that.

There is another place she can go to. Roger had told her of it when she’d shared the story of the Bodhisattva giving her human form. Rouge knows she will go to this place, and she does so willingly. She’ll live, give birth to a healthy child, and then one day she’ll return.

Roger has other ideas.

“You will not go alone!” he practically shouts, shaking his head in disbelief some days later. Rouge stares at him coldly, well aware Marco is asleep in the room next door.

“What about Marco then? I will not abandon one child for the sake of another!” Any selfish desire to keep Roger for herself is thrown out of the window. Marco needs them, they are family, and she will fight tooth and nail to keep their family together.

“I can’t…” Roger trails off, closing his eyes tightly. He reaches out for her, but Rouge shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Edward’s been in contact,” he says, and Rouge’s eyes widen. She sits down slowly, and knows that whatever Roger has to say, it will not be good news. He’s been keeping this from her, she realises, and she knows there is no way out of this that keeps their family together.

“The Shrine knows of this world,” Roger says simply, and Rouge shakes her head. This world is a breach of Roger’s powers, a sin in the eyes of the Shrine. This world shouldn’t exist, but it does, and if the Shrine can, they will rip it apart.

“Edward says they’re willing to make a deal, and that’s the best he can offer.” Roger’s face darkens, and Rouge knows it’s not for his brother. Edward never wanted to take the position of High Priest, but Roger left him little choice. They’re lucky Edward has warned them, bargained for them and protected them. If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have been so fortunate.

“If I become a Priest, they’ll leave this world alone,” Roger says, and Rouge closes her eyes. This is everything Roger has wanted to avoid, for his power will be abused if he becomes a Priest. There is little choice, though, and she wants to cry for the injustice.

“Marco,” she says, eyes drifting to the wall. She cannot bear to leave Marco, but the world outside of this one is no place for him. Rouge will be living in exile, and Roger will be dealing with threats beyond her wildest imagination. He is better off here, safe from the Shrine. If they find out about Marco’s immortality too, Rouge knows they’ll stop at nothing to chain Marco for their own use.

“Edward’s always wanted a family,” Roger says, and Rouge feels hope for the first time. She can trust Edward. He will love their son while she and Roger cannot.

Marco isn’t pleased when they tell him they will be leaving. He’s a young man now, but he turns away from them, hand twitching towards his tantō. Rouge closes her eyes, pulling Marco close and holding him. He’s as tall as her now, and she wonders where the time has gone. They’ve been together for a long time, yet it’s no time at all. It’s not fair.

“I love you,” she whispers in his ear, and Marco’s grip tightens around her. She knows they need to leave soon if they are to meet Edward as planned, but she cannot bring herself to let go of her son.

“Rouge,” Roger says gently, and Rouge lets her arms slide from Marco, wiping her tears before anyone can see them. She sniffs, pressing her lips together, and takes their mode of transport from her pocket. It’s a hand mirror, a hibiscus flower carved into the back, and she closes her eyes.

The power Bodhisattva bestowed upon her flows through her body, and Rouge feels the mirror leave her hands. It floats for a moment, a ghostly reminder of how they came into this world, before a door appears. It opens slowly, the mirror fading, and Rouge tucks it away, looking into the gloom before her.

“Edward,” Roger says as a figure moves towards them. Edward is even taller and broader than Roger, but he had a kind smile on his face as he pauses before Rouge. He nods at her, full of respect, before stepping into her world.

Rouge feels a little regret curl in her stomach. Edward will do what she cannot, love Marco when she cannot. Grief wells in her chest, and she hopes, oh goodness how she hopes, that she can come back here one day.

“My successor is a compassionate man,” Edward says, and his voice is deep. It is a stable voice, a grounded voice, and Rouge knows that this is the right choice. “His name is Sengoku,” Edward finishes, and Rouge smiles weakly.

There is one more thing to do before they leave, and she watches Roger move to stand in front of Marco. She knows the words he is speaking, knows he is passing his title onto him. Marco will rule this world in their stead, Edward at his side to support him. There will come a time, Rouge is sure, when Edward’s role will be fulfilled by someone Marco loves dearly – just as Roger loves her – but that time is far off.

Rouge sees Marco’s face anger, and she knows Roger has passed on the last of the powers he can. Marco is practically a god himself now, made rather than born. He has the power of the sacred beads, though Rouge knows he won’t understand the power for a long time now. Marco looks as if he hates them right now, and Rouge cannot blame him. If she were in his position, she’d hate them too.

“Take care,” she whispers, threading her fingers with Roger’s as they turn away from their home. The portal closes with a resounding thud, and Rouge takes a deep breath, turning towards the Holy Ground.

Roger is, as always, constant by her side.


	6. Present IV [Whitebeard]

It’s a warm, pleasant day, but Edward wakes with a headache that does not want to shift. He grimaces as he moves towards the kitchen, wishing this world’s rules about fixing things extended to his head, to take some painkillers and get some food down him. It would be today that he wakes with a headache, he thinks, the one day that is full of meetings and preparations.

Today will not be a good day, Edward thinks. Still, he gets his head down and prepares to head for the laboratory, heart heavy in his chest. Time is ticking, even for this mysterious world, and there are so many things to do. And so many things that won’t be done at all.

Edward does feel sorry for Ace, and his chest tightens when he thinks about the what ifs and might have beens. Ace is his biological nephew, though Ace has no idea of their connection. Edward has stayed away, recognising what Ace’s arrival meant the moment he’d seen Ace on the temple floor.

None of them have the power to travel through worlds, at least they’re not supposed to. Ace was never supposed to come here, and Edward knows it’s his mother’s power, her mirror, that allowed Ace to do so. Roger had a hand in it too, giving Ace a hammer that could destroy planets, though he doubts Ace knows the true purpose of his Aratama. 

Edward sighs. It’s not Ace who is the problem. It’s Aratama’s power, and the power of the hammer is why they have to send Ace back to his own world. Kyoto is an unstable world to begin with, and bringing a hammer that can destroy the entire world here means the end is only a matter of time away.

The thing is, from what Marco’s told him and from what Edward remembers about Ace’s arrival, opening the portal to this world wasn’t what Ace had had in mind. Edward is sure Ace never meant to come here, and it makes what he has to do that little bit harder. He has to send Ace away, lie to him even so he can betray him, and Edward hates it. If he doesn’t, though, this world and its people will fall. He knows Ace would never allow that, but Edward won’t tell him. If he tells Ace, Ace will tell Marco, and Edward can never deny Marco anything, even if it means they have to watch this world fall to pieces.

Izo’s face is grim as Edward enters the laboratories, heading downstairs to where their project lies. Bishimaru is a giant gamble, essentially, and Edward poured every inch of abilities he thinks might be able to make the leap from world to world into it. Bishimaru is the only way Ace will be able to cross between worlds, and Edward has no idea if his plan will even work. It’s better than sitting around waiting, and they’ve done so much of that already. Marco will hate him, but better for Marco to hate him than this world fall.

“We’re running the last of the tests,” Izo says, looking down at a clipboard he was just handed. “Bishimaru seems to be running well today.”

Edward nods, drawing his lips together tightly. He hates to do this to Ace, but this world means everything to him, Marco means everything to him. He’ll protect this world, no matter what, and Ace can continue the search he’s on for Roger. Everyone gets what they want, if Edward turned a blind eye to the relationship between Ace and Marco.

He should have kept Ace away from Marco, he thinks. Except, Edward knows that wouldn’t have worked. There are some people, some souls, that are simply draw together no matter what, and Ace and Marco would have been drawn together no matter. Edward knows his brother never does things without reason, and there was a reason he saved Marco, even if no one was aware of it. Ace and Marco meeting could have been foretold by the Creator himself, Edward thinks, and his gut twists at the betrayal he is about to pursue. 

“What time will he arrive,” Edward says, and Izō checks his watch before speaking.

“In an hour or so. We’re going to clear out this level so Ace can engage with Bishimaru.” Izō scrawls a few things down on the paper before him, handing the checklist over to a waiting scientist when he’s done. Edward can feel his gaze and he returns it evenly.

“It has to be done,” Izō says, and Edward nods slowly. It does, and that’s why it’s terrible. “What will happen to his familiars?”

“They’ll be okay,” Edward says, and he takes a step closer to Bishimaru. It’s a gorgeous specimen of ingenuity and science, and Edward feels proud of his team for making such a colossal robot. It gleams golden before him, and while Edward knows he’s about to do something awful, he feels excitement build as he thinks about finally getting to see Bishimaru work.

When Ace walks in, Izō is already in the control room. Edward watches as Izō gives them – Ace, Marco and the two familiars that is – a quick tour of the control room. He can see Izō explaining to Ace what they want to do, and Ace looks genuinely excited. Of course, he has no idea this isn’t a simple test of strength as Izō’s marketing it. Marco looks unimpressed and Edward wonders if he knows. 

“All I have to do is try and defeat it then,” Ace says as they step out onto the laboratory floor. Bishimaru whirs to life as Izō holds the controls, smiling easily. Edward moves from his observation perch, heading for the control room. The others will join him soon, but he isn’t sure he wants to see Marco before Bishimaru starts moving.

“Let me know if it gets too much,” Izō says, and Edward knows they’re empty words. There’s no stopping this, and his stomach drops as Bishimaru powers on, stretching upwards before looking down at Ace. 

Ace looks delighted, Aratama already in his hand and ready to fight. He reminds Edward a lot of Roger in that moment, and he shakes his head, ignoring Marco as he enters the control room.

“Oyaji,” he says, a little surprise curling his words. He hasn’t realised what’s going on just yet then, but he soon will.

“It’s not fair,” one of the familiars, Luffy, says. “How come Ace gets to do all these really cool things and we have to watch.” The other familiar pats his shoulder gently, and Edward shoots them a look.

“You can have a go when he’s done,” he says, and it’s the slight truth. When Ace and Bishimaru open the portal, Edward will send the familiars to him right away. It would be easier if they could fight now, but Izō will have a hard time keeping up with Ace and his hammer, let alone two familiars on top of that.

They watch in silence. Even Luffy seems enthralled by the fight, and Edward has to admit he is impressed. Ace moves skilfully. Edward recognises moves that the Shrine teach, and it makes perfect sense that Ace has mastered them. He’s lived at the Shrine his entire life and Izō will have his work cut out for himself.

Bishimaru is strong, though. Ace manages to disable one of the hands, but they had and advantage. Edward knew about Aratama and how to minimise its attacks, and Bishimaru is the perfect counter for Aratama’s power. They don’t need the fight to last long, just to tire Ace out before they move.

Edward feels Marco move beside him when he nods. Izō’s shot a look back at them, and Edward gives the silent command. His jaw is clenched and Edward’s hands are shaking, but he keeps reminding himself that this has to be done, that there are no other ways. His eyes blur, and Edward hardly registers the fact he’s crying as Bishimaru’s mouth opens, jaws clamping down around Ace.

Marco jolts as if he’s been swallowed himself. He moves, but Edward catches his arm gently, just a brief touch. Marco looks back and the look on his face is so haunting that Edward wonders if this world crumbling is really such a bad thing after all. Whatever fight Marco had in him drains as he looks at Edward, and there’s a huge rumble, Bishimaru shaking before the robot stills, power draining and silence overtaking the laboratory.

Something is happening, Edward can tell, and the others with him realise it now too. The observation room glass shatters as Luffy and Sabo hurl themselves through it, screaming Ace’s name. It won’t be enough, not yet, and Edward narrows his eyes. This has to work, this has to mean something, they have to send Ace away.

“Oyaji,” Marco says, and there is nothing but sadness in his voice. He knows what Edward has done, and Edward isn’t going to make any excuses.

He can still hear Luffy and Sabo trying – and failing - to open Bishimaru’s jaws, and Edward’s heart sinks. Is Ace still alive? Izo’s trying desperately to try and reconnect the controller with Bishimaru, but nothing seems to be working. Something is happening, but Edward has no idea if it’ll be what they need.

Just when he’s about to go down himself, a brilliant light pours from Bishimaru, mouth opening ever so slightly. It’s blinding, and Edward turns away, almost too afraid of what he will see. He’s never been afraid before and refuses to start now, so he looks, eyes widening as two figures are lowered to the ground by Bishimaru’s hand.

“Rouge,” Edward says quietly, and he feels Marco stiffen beside him. 

Whatever they’ve done, Edward feels as if they’re set on a one-way course, and there is nothing he can do to try and control wherever they’ll be heading. As the light from Bishimaru fades, he wonders if he ever had control, or whether it’s time to accept that he is too old.

Edward wipes his eyes and considers, hope blossoming in his chest. There are other options now, he thinks, watching as Marco clenches his fists, trying to summon up the courage to face Rouge. Edward doesn’t know what will happen, but he thinks that might be okay.


	7. Present V [Ace]

For a giant, metallic robot, Bishimaru is even larger than Ace had expected. When its jaws closed around him, Ace had been expecting a painful thump and scrape, maybe a broken bone or two. He’s tired, Aratama heavy in his hands, but he keeps falling, no bumps or broken bones heading his way.

It dawns then that Ace isn’t just inside Bishimaru. He shrinks down Aratama and tries to right himself in the falling space, though he’s not too sure which way is up or down. He’s more floating that anything, but he spins until something feels right, and takes a steady breath.

“Okay,” he says, eyes darting around the gloom, trying to figure a way back. He thinks he can hear dull thuds, though they are muffled and sound far away. He grins at the thought of Sabo and Luffy tearing Bishimaru apart, and knows he has to get out of here before they can. Ace can’t afford to replace a robot, after all.

He closes his eyes and focuses, just how he’s been taught in the past. Ace thinks about what he wants – the exit – and he senses a pinprick of light off to the side. He opens his eyes and looks down, following the light to his pocket.

Well, Ace thinks, that’s new. He frowns, not remembering putting a torch or anything in his pocket, and slides his fingers into his pocket. He jerks slightly when he feels something warm, fingers closing around a small, circular mirror, and he pulls it out with wide eyes.

A hyacinth decorates the back and the glass is shining, emitting a bright light. The mirror is how they arrived at this world in the first place, Ace thinks, and he stretches his arms out, letting go of the mirror gently. It floats, just as Ace expects it to, and he watches as a door forms around the mirror, spiralling until it towers above Ace, just waiting to be pushed.

It’s an exit, he thinks, and Ace suspects it has to be better than anything inside of Bishimaru. He presses the mirror slightly, and half of the doorway opens. He can see ruins through the door, flowers and vines curling around what could have been temples and grandiose structures, and Ace pokes his head through the door, checking he can breathe.

Ace is about to step through when he hears something. His fingers tighten around the small Aratama, and he prepares to fight whatever foe this world has thrown at him. His eyes narrow, a figure moving closer to the door, and Ace feels the fight drain from him when he sees the woman.

She feels familiar, and Ace has no idea why. He’s sure he’s never met this woman before, but she stands there smiling, a hand over her mouth and eyes bright with tears. Her other hand clutches tightly at the pale dress she wears, and Ace wonders if she is a supreme goddess, the creator of the universe.

“Ace,” she says softly, and shakes head as if she cannot believe he is here. “Look at you,” she says, and there’s something in her tone that shakes Ace to the core. He knows who she is now, there’s no denying it, and as she moves forward, Ace pulls her into a tight hug.

“My son,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing. Ace isn’t sure whether it’s her strength or the situation, but he finds it a little hard to breathe. He doesn’t move, doesn’t break their embrace, and just buries her head against the woman’s shoulder, soaking in the love she’s shown in the few words she’s spoken. “My little baby.”

Ace pulls back, but takes her hand and smiles. He can feel the pull of the Mirror World calling to him and knows he has to go back.

“Come with me,” he says, and his mother’s eyes widen, as if she’s never considered leaving this place. A sinking feeling settles into Ace’s stomach, but she tightens her hold on his hand and nods.

The world is shaking, and Ace watches his mother take the mirror gently when the doors shut behind them. She smiles and passes it back to Ace, just as light erupts around them. Ace wants to laugh when he sees Luffy and Sabo above them. He is too late after all – they’ve already destroyed Bishimaru.

Ace and his mother begin half falling-half floating to the ground (Ace is the falling half, his mother seems to have powers of some sort and Bishimaru’s hand manages to control their descent). They land with a thud, and his mother smooths a hand over her dress, looking around the laboratory with a puzzled look, eyes resting on Sabo and Luffy as they come whizzing over.

“ACE!” Luffy shouts, and Ace winces. Luffy’s too close to be shouting, but Ace is glad to see them. He wraps his arms around his brothers and holds tightly, laughing when Sabo pokes a finger into his ribs.

“We thought the worst,” he admits, and while Sabo’s always been the more serious one, Ace can see that they really had feared for his life. He pulls back, half-turns to his mother, and introduces them.

“These are my brothers, Sabo and Luffy,” Ace says, and his mother laughs.

“I don’t remember giving birth to these two,” she says softly, and strokes both Luffy and Sabo’s cheeks gently. “My name is Rouge. I want to thank you for being Ace’s family when I couldn’t.”

They take to her instantly, Luffy’s questions filling the silence in the room. Ace watches for a moment, and then realises that there are other people here. Izō’s sitting on the floor, controller by his side. He looks pale, and offers a weak wave in Ace’s direction. He was the one controlling Bishimaru, Ace realises, and he feels a little bit sorry for going all out. Izō loves Bishimaru.

There are two other people Ace has forgotten too, and he turns, searching for Marco. Whitebeard meets his eyes for a moment before looking away, the weight of the world on his shoulders for the few seconds they connect. Ace doesn't care, though. He continues searching, smiling widely when he sees Marco. He's about to speak, but his mother beats him to it.

"Marco," she says, and she moves towards him. Marco looks torn between fleeing the laboratory and running into Rouge's arms. He stays rooted, eyes wide as Rouge wraps her arms around him.

"How can you be here?" Ace hears Marco say, and he clings to Rouge as if she is his lifeline, just as Ace had done.

"It doesn't matter," Rouge says, and she kisses Marco's cheek. "Ace brought me home."

He smiles at the words, and Ace's stomach twists. Marco looks in his direction and seems shy, almost. Ace lets a smile slip into his face as he moves to them, slipping his hand into Marco's. He's not worried, but he still doesn't want to entertain the thought he's lost either of them. Marco and Rouge have their own past, evidently, and Ace wants to be a part of it.

Rouge nods to them, and Ace sees her turn to Whitebeard.

"Thank you for looking after Marco," she says, and Whitebeard nods. He still seems to be carrying some weight, but it sheds a little as Rouge smiles at him.

"We can show you the world," Marco says, fingers tightening around Ace's hand. Ace nods, thinking of this world and all it has to offer. He remembers first being here and remembers how amazing and overwhelming it was.

"I'd like that," Rouge says, and Luffy runs to her in his beast form, floating up to rest on her shoulders. Ace can hear him asking questions and shakes his head. Typical Luffy.

They start out in the country, leaving an exhausted Izō and a haunted-looking Whitebeard behind. The trees sway around them as they grab a taxi into the countryside, a gentle breeze stirring through Ace's hair.

They walk around a field for a while, Sabo and Luffy racing against each other. Marco moves ahead by himself, and Rouge walks with Ace, humming to herself softly.

"I've been alone for a long time," she says, stopping as they reach the top of a hill. "And I've waited so long to see you both."

Rouge looks at him, and her eyes soften.

"I thought Roger might be with you. He was supposed to take care of you," she says, concern coating her words.

"Inari looked after me," Ace says, and wonders if Inari's real name is Roger. "He taught me everything I know and also gave me these." Ace pulls the mirror and Aratama from his pockets, holding them out for Rouge to see.

"Inari," Rouge comments bluntly, shaking her head with a laugh. "I didn't think he was serious about using that as a cover name."

Her laugh echoes across the field, and Ace watches as Marco looks back at them. He waves a hand, arm high in the air, and Marco waves back stiffly.

"Where is your father?" Rouge asks, her voice sad as he watches Marco. "Seeing you and Marco makes me want to hold the man I love."

Ace startles, eyes wide as he turns to his mother.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and she rolls her eyes. She sits down, tugging Ace's arm, and he joins her with flushed cheeks.

"What I mean is I can see how much you care for each other," she says, plucking a few strands of grass from the ground. "You two are happy together, and it makes me miss Roger."

"I'm looking for him too," Ace admits. He's not forgotten the reason he stumbled across this world, but he has let it take second place. Ace isn't sure how he'll be able to leave Marco and closes his eyes.

"I thought maybe he returned to you," Ace says, shrugging. "He left me ten years ago. I've been training at the Shrine and left when I was sixteen to begin searching for him."

Rouge shakes her head, sighing.

"He wouldn't have left without a good reason," she says, and Ace nods.

"I know that," Ace says. It's been a long while since he's thought about why he's looking for his father. He misses Inari, still has so much to learn, but he's found so much at the same time.

"I can't stay," she says suddenly, and Ace feels his heart sink. Rouge is still looking down the hill, watching as Sabo and Luffy chase Marco around, laughter floating up to them. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and draws her knees up to her chest.

"I think Marco knows already: it's why he's so distant." She takes a deep breath and lets her head fall back. "I was not born, but created. A Bodhisattva gave me human form, and with that came other powers. When I gave birth to you..." Rouge trails off.

"I gave my powers to you. I still have some, but you needed them more. You were just a tiny baby, I had to give you something and-" Rouge shakes her head, turning to look back at the group below. Ace follows her gaze and, despite her news, feels warmth curl in his stomach.

"If I stay away from the Holy Ground for too long, I'll fade away." Ace can't imagine how Rouge must have felt staying at the Holy Ground for so long. He’d thought that world beautiful, but she must have been there for over 20 years now. He doesn’t know how she’s managed to do it, or even how she can contemplate returning.

“Please,” Ace says. He’s not ready to let her go. He feels panic well in his chest, but Rouge places a hand over his and smiles softly.

“I have to,” she says, and Ace knows there’s no other way. He takes a shaky breath in and forces a smile. “But now you can open the door, you can come and visit me whenever you want.”

The thought hasn’t crossed Ace’s mind before now, but he knows that this won’t be a goodbye forever. He can go and see Rouge, even bring her back here for small amounts of time. She won’t be here forever, but neither will Ace.

“We’ll have a nice dinner at home,” he says, and wonders briefly since when he’s considered Marco’s house his home. Rouge nods, and they stand, running to join Luffy and Sabo in chasing after Marco.

They sit around the table later, and Ace is shocked to see Luffy offering Rouge one of his smaller portions of meat. She thanks him, declines the meat, and Ace wonders if Luffy might have fallen in love with her for that act. He looks at her as if she is the sun, and turns to Ace with watery eyes, gesturing at his plate.

“She didn’t take my meat,” he whispers, though it carries across the table, and they all laugh. From the side of the room, Thatch thumps his tail merrily, eyes watching for any morsels dropped.

“Thank you,” Rouge says to them all, and she looks from Ace to Marco. “You’ve grown into an amazing man,” she says, and Marco looks down hurriedly. He scoops a spoonful of rice into his mouth, and Ace knows it’s just so he doesn’t need to talk.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay here for longer, but you’re welcome to visit me now,” she says, and Ace can hear the hope in her voice. “Ace has the mirror after all.”

He takes it out of his pocket and places it on the table. He still isn’t sure how exactly it works, but he’ll have to try. Ace wants to see Rouge again, and he certainly doesn’t want her to fade in this world.

“I’ll try to do it,” he says, shovelling food into his mouth. Ace remembers that he thought really hard, so he’ll need a lot of energy.

Marcos quiet as he clears away the plates, but Ace can feel his eyes on him all the time. Rouge sits to his side as Ace stands, mirror in his palm. Sabo and Luffy are at his feet, in their beast forms, hackles raised in case they need to jump in. It’s now or never, Ace thinks, and he closes his eyes, trying to focus on the energy inside of himself.

It doesn’t work how it did inside of Bishimaru, but Ace can feel the mirror heating up. It’s glowing, and he can feel something there, something before him. It needs a pull, and Ace thinks he has it. He tugs, opens his eyes and then-

There’s a bright flash outside and a huge rumble, and Ace is reminded of the storm he arrived in. Luffy and Sabo both flinch as the world flashes again, and Ace hears something smash to the floor in the kitchen.

“I thought…” Ace says, but he trails off. Maybe he’s opened the portal outside. The storm happened when he came, so it makes sense it’s happening now. 

Ace stands and runs outside. It’s started to rain and his feet get wet as he tries to look for the portal, eyes narrowing as he searches the skies. He can hear Rouge trying to call him back in, and sees Marco come outside to watch him, worry clear on his face. Thatch, Luffy and Sabo all join him, circling him uneasily, snouts pointing to the sky as if they might be able to sense the portal.

This storm is different, though. Ace ducks his head as lightning strikes the ground, and he can see debris fly from where it strikes and Ace whistles. This storm is destructive, and it looks as though it wants to tear this entire world apart.

There’s another flash and Ace catches something on top of the tower. He smiles, about to shout that he’s found the portal, but the words die in his throat. A bolt of lightning strikes the tower and illuminates it, highlighting the strange figure on top of the Temple.

Ace’s breath catches, and the ground shakes under him. He falls, blinks, and the figure has vanished. He knows what he saw, though, and his heart pounds in his chest. There is no way Ace can forget that figure. He has, after all, been chasing it for years.


	8. Past III [Roger]

Things are getting progressively worse and worse, Roger thinks. He resists the urge to pull his mask off and throw it in Sengoku’s face, but only just. He was never meant to serve the Shrine in the first place, and now he’ll be forced to serve an unworthy Head Priest.

“Inari,” Sengoku says, though he at least doesn’t try to say it will be okay. He’s about as comfortable with the decision as Roger is, but there’s nothing they can do. The decision is out of their hands, and it’s not Sengoku’s fault he needs a rest.

“I don’t agree with your successor,” Roger says simply, and Sengoku’s lips thin.

“You don’t have to agree with him,” he replies, and Roger crosses his arms over his chest. “Whether or not you like him, he’s the new Head.”

Roger feels anger bubble in his stomach, and he breathes out slowly. It’s not Sengoku’s fault, but there is no way Roger can accept this change. He came back to the Shrine to protect his family, but he never signed up to be anyone’s lapdog. The new Head will have no qualms about using Roger’s powers how he wants them, not how they should be used.

There’s only one course of action open to him now, Roger knows. He thinks of his son, only a decade old, and his heart swells. He will do anything for Ace, which is why he has to abandon the Shrine. If he stays, the new Head won’t let his relationship with Ace slide. If Roger stays then he’s endangering Ace, and he needs to protect his son, no matter what.

“I can tell you one thing,” Sengoku says, and Roger looks at him. They’ve never really been close, far from friends, but there is a mutual respect between them. Sengoku is a man with morals, and Roger can think good of a person like that.

“He doesn’t know how to get to the Mirror World,” Sengoku says, and it’s a breath of fresh air. Roger smiles, nodding slowly, and realises what this means. Even if he leaves, Kyōto will be protected. The new Head has no idea how to break into that world, and Roger won’t stick around long enough to let him figure it out. He’ll keep the Head chasing after him, keep him away from Ace and Kyōto.

“Good,” Roger says, and Sengoku inclines his head. “I suppose this is goodbye then.”

They part ways as easily as if they were strangers. Roger has no lingering feelings of sudden friendship, and he needs to see Ace before he leaves. He hates the fact he has to leave his son, but the Shrine, for all its faults, is the safest place in the twelve worlds. It’s probably the safest place Roger knows, except for the Mirror World and perhaps the Holy Ground. Ace is too young and has so much to learn though, so Roger has to keep him here. He won’t be alone, at least, as he has Sabo and Luffy.

Ace is fast asleep when Roger pokes his head in. Sabo and Luffy are curled up with him, Roger’s familiar watching them in the corner. Rayleigh sets down his book and stands, crossing to Roger’s side.

“We’re leaving then,” Rayleigh says, and Roger shakes his head.

“I need you to stay here,” he says, and Rayleigh nods, as if that was what he expected all along. Perhaps it was, Rayleigh has always known him well, better than anyone, aside from Rouge. Rouge is always the exception, Roger thinks, and his heart twinges painfully, as it always does when he thinks of her, alone, waiting at the Holy Ground. When they’d parted, she had said she didn’t mind, but Roger will always remember the tears as they filled her eyes, Ace tiny and newborn in his arms. Rouge had sent her love with them, and Roger knows one day they’ll be reunited.

“Don’t give the new Head any reason to suspect you’re less than loyal to him,” Roger says, and Rayleigh smiles. They’ll be playing a dangerous game if things go their way, and Roger thinks of the gifts he’s to leave Ace.

“Do you think he’s ready?” Rayleigh asks, and Roger frowns. It’s not a matter of if he’s ready or not, and he says as much to Rayleigh.

“We have no other choice,” he says quietly, moving out of the room. He walks down the hall, to his own room, where a dark brown cabinet sits. It’s quite unremarkable, but in the top left drawer are two objects Roger treasures more than any other.

“Ace,” he whispers when he’s collected his treasures. Luffy and Sabo stay sleeping, but Ace sits up, as if he knows the importance of what Roger is about to do.

“Sensei?” Ace asks, voice thick with sleep. He rubs his eyes with a frown, making to clamber out of the sleeping pile.

“It’s okay,” Roger says with a smile. He moves his mask up off of his face and takes Ace’s hand, pressing the compressed Aratama into it.

“Take care of that,” he says, beaming. “It’s time you had a weapon of your own.”

And while he was asleep mere seconds ago, Ace’s face brightens and he is trembling with excitement. He looks as though he wants to wake Sabo and Luffy up to show them, but stills when he looks at Roger.

“This is something that belongs to your mother,” Roger says, pressing a circular mirror into Ace’s other palm. A hyacinth patterns the back, and Ace looks at it in awe. His fingers trace the pattern gently, and he looks up at Roger.

“You’re going to do well,” Roger says, lowering his mouth to kiss Ace’s forehead. “You’ll know how to use that when the time comes.”

He smiles and pulls back. Ace stares at him, eyes narrowing as if he suspects something, but then Luffy grabs his top, and Ace shrugs, tucking his new gifts by his side and curling back up with his brothers. Roger nods, takes a step back and places his mask back on. His sword, his key, is by his side, ready, and Rayleigh waits for him as he makes his way to the front door.

“One day I’ll hope I can bring her to meet you,” Roger says, clapping Rayleigh on the shoulder. Rayleigh’s the only one he’s fully been able to trust here, and he’ll miss his dear friend. He pulls Rayleigh close, hugging him, and parts with tears in his eyes.

“I’ll take care of them,” Rayleigh says, and Roger leaves without another word, throwing a smile over his shoulder. He sees Rayleigh wave, waits until he shuts the door, and Roger knows he’ll be alone for a while now.

His destination is the Shrine’s portals, and Roger picks one at random. Energy hums around him as he transports, and he knows people will come running after him when they realise what he’s doing. Still, Roger is a god, he has the power to create and control, and he splits through the seams of this world, entering the space between worlds.

It’s dark, very dark, but Roger doesn’t mind the darkness. He moves slowly, as if pushing through tar, and he can barely breathe, such is the nature of the space between worlds. He’s not meant to be here, but he can’t die, and so there’s no getting rid of him. He’ll continue moving, continue pushing onwards, until he finds the Holy Ground, until he finds Rouge.

Roger searches, and it’s years later that his world changes, the seams splitting to reveal a world he thought barred to him forever. Roger takes a deep breath, fresh air filling his lungs, and he beams. There’s only one person who could have broken the space between the worlds like this, and it’s the one person he’s been looking forward to seeing the most, even more than seeing Rouge. Ace has freed him from the space between the worlds, and Roger knows they all have a greater role to play.


	9. Present VI [Ace]

The storm doesn’t stop. It continues to rage ,and while Ace is ready to try and hunt Inari – Roger – from where he’s seen him, he gets dragged back inside, just before a bolt of lightning strikes the garden. Even Luffy agrees it’s safer to be inside, though the house shakes with every strike of lightning, and Rouge has already asked how strong the house is.

They’ll be okay, Ace assures himself. They have to be okay. He can’t let his friends, his mother, or Marco get harmed. Especially when it’s Ace that caused this mess in the first place.

Ace sinks his head into his hands. He’s sitting in the kitchen, watching as Marco clears up the mess he made when he dropped a handful of bowls. Rouge is with Luffy and Sabo, keeping an eye on the storm, and Ace feels awful.

“This is my fault,” he says quietly, amidst the scraping of broken bowls. Marco pauses, then carries on.

“Did you want this storm to happen?” Marco asks lightly, and Ace frowns.

“No,” he replies slowly.

“Then how could you cause it?” Marco says, crouching down in front of Ace. He leans forward, kisses the top of Ace’s head and then sits down. Ace peers at him through his fingers.

“I don’t know, but it has to be because of me,” he says. He closes his eyes as a roll of thunder sounds. Marco tugs his hand free and holds it, stroking the back of his hand gently.

“I don’t think it’s possible for it to be because of you,” Marco says, and his tone is serious. Ace looks at him and sees Marco’s deep frown. “Even when you entered, the lightning was never this bad. It’s as if the world’s trying to get rid of something almost.”

Ace thought of Roger and grit his jaw.

“I think I saw him,” Ace says, and Marco frowns, not quite understanding. “Inari. Roger,” Ace clarifies, and Marco’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You think he’s doing this?” Marco says, and Ace shakes his head.

“No!” he says hurriedly, hand gripping Marco’s forearm. “He wouldn’t do something like this.”

Marco makes a murmur of agreement. “No, he wouldn’t.”

He shifts to sit beside Ace, and Ace rests his head on Marco’s shoulder. He feels tired, and it’s no surprise when he thinks about it. He’s been opening world portals all day, and he knows that takes tremendous energy. The Shrine portals each take at least two people to open, so Ace is impressed with his abilities really.

“I want it to stop,” Ace says quietly. He wishes he has supreme power, power to control, because then he could stop the destruction outside. He hears Sabo shout out a warning, and a lightning bolt hits close to them, rocking the entire house.

“I’ve had enough,” Ace says, and Marco hums to himself. He pats Ace’s hand gently, then pulls away, standing.

“I’m sure Roger knows more than us,” he begins, and Ace sees the formation of a plan. “If we find him, he might be able to stop this.”

It’s better than lying around doing nothing, and Ace nods. He walks to the other room, and the occupants look at him, Rouge worried and his brothers serious.

“We’re going out,” Ace says, and both Sabo and Luffy stand instantly, nodding. Rouge gets up slowly, glancing out to the storm raging above them.

“Do you think we can fix this?” she says, and it’s not because she doubts them or their abilities. Her question is whether they can handle what they might see, what this might mean, and Ace looks at Marco.

“I don’t know,” he says, but he’s willing to try. He’s willing to do anything if it means he can protect this world, protect Marco. Besides, apart from his time fighting Bishimaru, Ace hasn’t had a challenge in a while. It’ll be a change of pace, something interesting.

They grab whatever coats they can find to keep the rain away and head out. They don’t bother trying to start Marco’s moped, instead choosing to run towards the Temple. Luffy and Sabo zoom ahead, circling them occasionally to let them know they haven’t spotted anything strange (well, stranger than the huge columns of lightning hitting the ground), and, at some point, Ace finds himself running stride-for-stride with Marco, his hand clenched tightly in Marco’s.

They stop before the Temple, and the world seems a little quieter here. Ace doesn’t know if it’s just his wishful thinking, though, or whether the buildings seem to cushion the blow of the storm. It feels a little more peaceful too, and he looks at their small group, wondering what they should do next.

They don’t get a chance to decide. There is a flash – bigger than any Ace has seen before – and the entire world shakes. Ace falls to the floor and feels Sabo and Luffy move to his side. Marco is with Rouge, and they all turn as a strange noise sounds in the sky. It almost sounds like… but Ace shakes his head. It sounds like a door opening, but there is no way a door can open in the sky.

Except Ace did it before. Twice even. He probably landed in the same place when he first came here. He stares upwards, nerves like snakes in his stomach, writhing. It takes a while, but he does locate the source of the noise, and he inhales sharply, eyes wide.

It’s not Roger. The figure striding down the stairs is not even close to being Roger. It’s someone Ace knows very well, and he feels both Luffy and Sabo shake as they see the Head Priest walking down the stairs from the sky.

Akainu has always been an imposing man. While Ace’s fondest memories of the Shrine involve Inari, he also remembers the Head before Akainu, a patient man who had taught Ace a few things. Akainu had wanted nothing to do with Ace, openly scorning him when he could. The only reason Ace had been allowed to stay had been Akainu’s council. They’d recognised Ace’s talents and taught him until Ace was of age, and he’d snuck out the moment he’d turned 16, not wasting another moment wondering when Akainu would ‘accidentally’ kill him, or use him in some way.

He cares about the protection of the 12 worlds and its people: Akainu has to, or he’d never have made Head Priest, but he’s a ruthless, harsh man. He thinks Ace is the key for something (and now Ace realises it was all to do with the Mirror World), and had always watched Ace, waiting for the chance to strike him down.

“Shit,” Ace says, and Rouge snaps her head to look at him, disapproving frown on her face. The look smooths, and she sighs, nodding slowly.

“I remember him,” she says, and her voice is small. She knows then, knows what Akainu is capable of. He’s burned countries before, just to put an end to rumours. He’s ruthless, and he’s here to destroy their world.

They wait together, watching as Akainu walks slowly towards them. Two familiars – one bright blue and one a vibrant yellow – accompany him, though they seem to be trailing lazily behind. Ace recognises them as Kizaru and Aokiji, and they’ve always been more reasonable than Akainu. Still, Akainu controls them, has their loyalty, and where they showed kindness in the past, Ace knows there will be none of that now. There’s another, and this person is someone Ace knows very well, and he fights the automatic greeting he wants to give. He can feel Luffy and Sabo holding themselves back too. Rayleigh was Roger’s familiar, once, and Ace knows he’s a decent man through and through, present affiliations excused (and Ace always thought Rayleigh was doing it on orders, he hopes today that his thoughts are right).

“Priest Ace!” Akainu calls, feet stomping through puddles as he marches towards them. He wears a frown well, and Ace tenses. He feels for Aratama and shifts his position. If he needs to, he’ll be able to fight.

“You will stand down. You will return to the Shrine, as is your duty, and you will repent your sins.” Akainu tilts his chin, standing around ten or so paces away. Rayleigh hovers behind him, dark eyes watching with amusement, as Akainu’s familiars float upwards slowly, prepared to strike.

“Why?” Luffy shouts, and, for once, no one chides him for speaking out of turn.

Akainu looks at him as if he’s a piece of dirt, and Ace feels hatred curl in his gut. He wants nothing more than to wipe out Akainu using Aratama, though he knows he can’t. Akainu is strong. Ace has no idea how strong, but he’s the man in charge of the 12 worlds, and so he has to be able to handle himself and any threats. Ace, in comparison, is in charge of nothing.

“This world is a sin,” he sneers, and his familiars shift around him. “This world was created by a false god, one who stole his power and used it to create this monstrosity.”

Ace sees Marco start, clenching his fist. He looks angrier than Ace has ever imagined he could be, and Ace doesn’t blame him. He’s ridiculing the world Marco loves, calling his former guardian a false god. Ace doesn’t know much about gods, but he knows that Roger has a power he could never have stolen.

“This world will be destroyed. Ace and his familiars can return to the Shrine for repentance, but the rest of you need to be wiped from this miserable world.” Akainu dips his head, and Ace can feel the hum of power radiating from him. His hand moves to the sword at his hip, and Ace hisses a warning.

“It’s all your fault really, Ace,” he says, and Ace freezes, hand digging into his pocket to pluck Aratama out. “If you’d just stayed put, this world would have remained stable. Whatever you’ve done, you put this world on our radar and made it easy to travel here. This world is dying whether I do anything or not, and it’ll take the 12 other worlds with it.” Akainu smirks, but there’s no humour in it.

“I’ve been asked to call you back to the Shrine, but if there was an accident, and you should die here… well, the world is falling apart. I wouldn’t have been able to help it.” His hand wraps around the hilt of his sword, and Ace knows this is it. Akainu’s going to kill them all, this world will fall, and that’s the end of it.

But since when has Ace ever given in without a fight?

He can see Akainu moving and pulls Aratama out of his pocket, enlarging the hammer. Ace swings his arm back as Luffy and Sabo surge forward, ready to meet Aokiji and Kuzan, but Ace never lands his hit. He stops abruptly, a hand on top of his, just as Akainu’s sword clashes with another.

“You’re as insufferable as you ever were,” a deep voice says, and Ace’s heartbeat speeds up. He recognises that voice, has been searching for the owner for years. It’s Roger, blocking Akainu’s attack, and Whitebeard who held off Ace. He bows his head as Ace glances at him and steps aside, eyes narrowed as he judges the scene.

“Inari,” Akainu snarls, and Roger gives a humourless snort of laughter. He pulls his sword back, sheaths it, and steps back until he is part of their group. He hasn’t looked at Ace or Rouge yet, but he fixes Marco a look. Ace sees Marco flinch, but he doesn’t turn away. He nods, and Ace has no idea what it means.

“Ace did nothing to this world,” Roger says, and he moves until he is beside Rouge. He bows his head to her, and she offers him her hand. He presses a kiss to it, and Ace starts when he sees Rouge is already fading, skin almost translucent. She needs to return to the Holy Ground, but how can she when Akainu is so persistent?

It’s all Ace’s fault, no matter what Roger says. If he’d stayed away, or even if he’d just moved on instead of being selfish and falling in love with Marco, then Akainu would never have come here. Rouge would still be safe at the Holy Ground, and Ace could still have found them both. Now he’s doomed this world, doomed everyone he loves, and he grits his jaw.

The group shifts then. It seems to spark from Rayleigh, who almost seems to glide towards Whitebeard. It seems to be the cue for Aokiji and Kuzan, and Luffy and Sabo take off after them, chasing them upwards in their beast forms. Marco moves to stand next to Ace, beads clacking as he moves, and Ace is fascinated with the ruby beads for a moment. They remind him of blood, and he wonders how much blood is about to be shed, all because of his selfish actions.

“Give it up,” Akainu hisses, waving his sword in Ace’s direction. “He’s the child of an illusion and a liar. He’s going to cause the collapse of the 12 worlds if someone doesn’t stop him. You can’t stand there and lie, tell me that he’s innocent.” Akainu narrows his eyes. His sword is perfectly controlled, blade not even wavering as he holds it out. Ace shudders, shifts slightly and bumps against Marco’s shoulder. It’s that contact that stops him from panicking there and then. He is worth more than Akainu’s words, he knows that, but it’s hard for Ace to accept when someone wants his death more than anything else.

The storm still rages too, and Ace can feel it in every pore of his skin. The air is electric, the breeze stifled. He did this, he thinks. He’s killing this world.

“Ace is so much more,” Roger says, shaking his head. The storm seems to quieten down as Roger takes a step forward, as if it too wants to hear what Roger has to say. “He’s inherited the power to travel through the worlds with a mere thought. His mother gave him those powers, but he’s so much more.”

Akainu lowers his sword, eyebrow raising, as if permitting Roger to continue.

“He’s the son of a Bodhisattva and a god,” Roger announces, and he takes a step forward, hand on his sword. He’s preparing to fight, and Ace knows this could be the end of everything.

“Lies!” Akainu shouts, and he moves forward. Roger meets his sword evenly, and Ace’s hand grips Marco’s sleeve, fear swirling around him. He risks a glance upwards too, momentary relief bursting in his chest as he sees Luffy and Sabo are doing well. He doesn’t think they have much chance at winning, but they’re working together and alright. He’ll help them soon, when he can.

“The only authority is the Shrine,” Akainu calls, and he’s breathing heavily, rage taking over him. “Your gods are false, and this world is a sin.”

Ace wonders if he’s right, entertains the vicious thought, until he can feel Marco’s arm shaking under his hand. He looks away from the fighting – barely registering as Rayleigh shift into beast form, moving upwards to join Sabo and Luffy in their fight – and at Marco. He has tears in his eyes, and Ace thinks he is possibly the most stupid person to ever have existed.

Once, and it feels so long ago now, Marco asked Ace to kill him, to find a way to take away his immortality. Marco has lived in this world for so long, seen so many things, and despite his hatred for his never ending life, he loves this world. He loves it and would never see it destroyed, so how can Ace have betrayed him so brutally by thinking that Akainu is right?

“He wants to destroy what he cannot control,” Marco says, bringing up his hand to wipe his eyes, and Ace thinks that he’s not just referring to Akainu. His beads clack together, and Ace feels courage swell from goodness knows where. He made a promise to help Marco, so he has to end this.

“This world needs to stay!” he shouts, and it seems even the storm stops. Akainu moves away from Roger’s sword, rounding on Ace. Ace stands firm, knowing he can do this. He can do this for Marco, for his brothers, for his mother. He can even do it for Roger and the others, he has to.

“This world has never harmed anyone. It was created from love, and you’d never understand how important this world is.” He stands firm, glancing to Roger. Roger looks proud, a soft smile on his face.

“I will do anything to protect this world,” Ace says, and he shifts Aratama so that the hammer hits the ground before him. The world gives a bone-shuddering jolt, but it’s worth it. Akainu’s expression changes into something that Ace wants to see more of. It’s not quite fear, but a realisation that Ace isn’t just going to roll over and do what he wants. That’s how Ace wants it.

“The Creator formed the 12 worlds,” Roger says suddenly, and everyone looks at him, unsure where this is going. Even the familiars still, and Ace is pleased to see that, with Rayleigh’s help, Akainu’s familiars are looking close to collapsing.

“Yes, and formed the Shrine,” Akainu says, as if Roger is a child. He keeps his eye on Ace though, sword hand twitching.

“He had two sons,” Roger says, and he smiles fondly. “Edward was his first son, placed in charge of the Shrine. He only stepped down because he had to, when I asked him to govern this land and take care of Marco.”

Ace had, in all honesty, forgotten about Whitebeard until now. He is with Rouge, crouched low, and he inclines his head. He’s powerful, Ace realises, and very clever. There’s no denying he could have governed the Shrine, and Ace has heard stories about him. He’d never thought of the legends to be true, but Whitebeard here is proof.

“Our father gave me the power of creation,” Roger continues, and Akainu does look away from Ace then, eyes murderous. He looks as if he wants to rip Roger apart, and perhaps he’d try if he was closer.

“I created this world for my family, and it is my family that watches over it today. You say the Shrine is the ultimate authority, but how can you be when my son has more power than you could ever dream of?” Roger smiles, and Ace thinks the entire world shifts as he moves. His sword is a silver arc through the air as he slices Akainu – not deep enough to be fatal, but deep enough that he may bleed out if he continues how he has been.

Roger pauses, and Ace can see a sad smile on his face. There’s something that’s about to happen, Ace thinks, and he lets go of Marco’s sleeve. His hand lets go of Aratama, and he takes a half-step forward.

Ace can feel the energy around them pulse as Roger explains he left Ace to become stronger. He explains that he never trusted Akainu, or the Shrine, and now his family is safe, can handle themselves, he doesn’t have to bend to their whims. Akainu moves as if to fight back, but Whitebeard is there, eyes cold and hard.

He still feels as though he’s watching everything from a faraway window, though. Ace takes a deep breath, trying to coax more life into him, but all he can do is stand there, as if he is awaiting judgement. It seems everyone is too busy watching Whitebeard as he delivers a killing blow, but Ace looks at Roger and meets his eyes.

There’s an apology in them. Ace knows his father well enough to understand what the apology is for, and he knows that there is only one way to fix this world. He thinks of Marco, thinks of Luffy and Sabo (and he can hear them celebrating; they’ve outdone themselves this time by defeating Akainu’s familiars), and he thinks of his mother. It’s the last that sends him reaching for the mirror, calling for the gate to the Holy Ground. He can feel it open beside Rouge, and he can sense her shock, and that’s when it happens.

Roger holds him, arm around his shoulders. For a moment, no one seems to take notice, not even Ace. It’s almost as if Roger really is congratulating him, hugging a son he hasn’t seen for years. And then Ace can feel it. It starts as a tiny prick of pain, then he can hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel the skin of his stomach shudder, trying to get away from the metal that is now embedded through him, twisting as Roger whispers to him, confirming Ace’s thoughts. Pain spirals through him, and Ace let out a wheezy breath, eyes rolling back for a moment. This is the only way.

He thinks he can hear panicked shouting, feels Roger leave him and feels the gate to the Holy Ground vanish, his mirror gone too. Ace is still standing, but he is close to falling. He can feel his consciousness sinking, darkness creeping in, and his only thought is to get to Aratama.

There is only one way to fix this, and they need to start with the end of the world.


	10. Present VII [Rouge]

Although she saw what happened, Rouge can hardly believe it. She’d worried how Roger was with Ace before, but never in her wildest dreams could she have dreamt up the reality of what she’s just seen.

“How could you?” she says, voice thick with disgust. For the first time, she wishes she still had her powers. She wishes she could leave this cursed ground and run to her son, hold him and undo the terrible thing Roger had just done.

Rouge doesn’t want to believe it. One moment they’d been focused on watching Akainu fall to the ground, the next Luffy and Sabo had been screaming Ace’s name, Marco pulling him away from Roger as Roger’s sword slid clean of his torso.

“You stabbed our son!” Rouge says furiously, lip curled in anger. She doesn’t know this man before her, not when he can do something so terrible to their child. She remembers how Roger had held Ace in his arms when he was a baby, how tenderly Roger had looked down at Ace. Where had it all gone wrong?

“Rouge,” Roger starts, reaching out for her, but she moves out his reach. His face falls, and, for a moment, Rouge wants to hold him. She loves Roger, so, so much, but she also loves Ace. Her heart is torn, but her child will always win.

“No,” she says, the words wavering as she shakes her head. Rouge feels sick, and she’s not sure how she isn’t throwing up right now. She’s weak from being away from the Holy Ground for so long, and she doesn’t know if she will ever recover from what she’s seen.

“You have to trust me,” he says, and Rouge wants to, oh how she wants to. Roger’s eyes are wide and, for once, he’s not smiling. He has wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth, laughter lines, and Rouge thinks fondly that she was there for their making.

“How could you,” she said, though the fight is gone from her words. She sits down on a ruined stone, rose thorns tearing at her dress. She ignores them, unconcerned whether her clothes are ruined or not.

“It was the only thing I could do for our world,” he says, and Rouge lets him take a seat on the ground next to her. Her eyes trail from his dark hair out into the darkness around them. She can see the other worlds, some closer than others, and she thinks of all the stories she’s made up, the tales she’s imagined about the people on those worlds. She thinks of the stories she’s told about Roger and Ace, and not one of them ever ended as terribly as this.

“When I renounced my title and passed it onto Marco, I lost the ability to create.” Roger smiles sadly, and Rouge knows that the man she loves is still there. He’s always been there, but she doesn’t regret her doubts. There should have been another way, a better way.

“Despite all this time and teaching, Edward told me he still doesn’t accept the power. He still hates his immortality, and he has never been able to create.” Roger runs a hand through his hair, and Rouge looks out at the nearest planet. It looks so vibrant and alive, framed with twinkling stars, and she sighs.

“You can’t play god forever,” she says, and Roger’s fingers tighten their grip in his hair. He’s nodding, and Rouge touches his shoulder gently, giving him permission to lean against her. She’s still upset – for she has no way of knowing whether Ace and Marco will be able to find the right path – but Rouge now understands and believes in them.

They sit in silence for a long while, watching the worlds exist and live. While she may not always enjoy the forced captivity, Rouge does love the Holy Ground, and she knows she’ll never be able to part from it, not properly. This is her home now, no matter what.

“Perhaps I should disappear,” Roger says, and she thinks that he is such a stupid, stupid man. “Ace can take my place, Marco too if they pull through this. The world doesn’t need me anymore, I should just stop.”

Rouge pushes him away and stands. Her dress catches on the thorns, and she hears it tear, small holes dotting her ankles. The holes are nothing compared to the growing emptiness in her stomach, however and she looks down at Roger.

“How dare you,” she says. Rouge thought she’d lost her son tonight, she’s not ready to lose the man she loves too.

“I need you,” she says, and she can feel Roger’s surprise when she kneels down, wrapping her arms around him. It’s been so, so long, Rouge thinks, but Roger feels everything as she remembers.

“Even if the world no longer needs you, I do, so don’t you dare say any more.” And, because he is a stupid man, Rouge knows Roger is about to say something, about to open his stupid mouth and start saying words she doesn’t want to hear. He’s about to ruin everything, probably, and Rouge tightens her grip, trying to stifle the words before they escape his throat.

She succeeds, but Rouge is aided in her stifling. It seems to be a star, at first, and Rouge turns, looking at the speck as it brightens. She recognises it instantly, and lets her arms fall from Roger, keeping a hand on his arm as they watch a door open.

Rouge takes a deep breath and can hear Roger do the same. There are a handful of people who are able to use Rouge’s mirror, and Rouge waits to see who has come to visit. Her heart leaps in her chest, and she’s only just able to move aside as someone charges in, heading straight for Roger.

Well, she thinks, turning to the second person who steps free of the threshold. Rouge opens her arms and says the first words that come to mind.

“Roger deserves that really,” she says, and the laughter that echoes around the Holy Ground is the most sacred thing Rouge has ever experienced.


	11. Present VIII [Marco]

Marco isn’t one to shock easily. He’s been through a lot of things and survived, and he’s bound to see a lot more strange things. Not a lot gets to him, but this is more than a ‘lot’. One moment he’s watching as Akainu falls, elation that their world – that Ace – is saved, and the next he’s moving to catch Ace as Roger runs him through with a sword.

“Roger!” he shouts, and he sees Luffy and Sabo dart after Roger, the only thought on their mind to catch him and make him atone for what he’s done. They’re too late, though, and Marco watches as the gate to the Holy Ground closes, Rouge pulled along with Roger and Ace heavy in his arms. There’s no blood, but Ace isn’t opening his eyes, and Marco feels his world narrowing down to Ace and just Ace.

“Ace, please,” he says, sinking to the ground. He cradles Ace, looking up as Luffy and Sabo join him, their eyes wide. They have no idea what to do, just like Marco, and he searches for Whitebeard.

“Marco,” Whitebeard says, the man who had defected from Akainu at his side, body language cautious and eyes shadowed. “Let him go.”

Marco wants to shout, wants to do anything except let Ace go. He’s about to argue, but Ace shifts in his arms, and Marco looks down in panic. He feels relief flood him when Ace’s eyes open, but stills. Ace isn’t looking at him, he seems to be looking at something far away, and he stands stiffly, not even acknowledging his brothers.

There is something terribly wrong, and Marco can only watch as Ace reaches for Aratama. The first swing shatters the ground around them, and Marco sinks to the ground, disbelief flowing through him as Ace continues on his rampage, Aratama splitting the world apart. Sabo and Luffy run after him, trying to stop him, and Marco just sits there, as if waiting for some great epiphany to help him.

“Ace,” he whispers. The storm seems to have calmed, at least, though lightning is still tearing up the world. Thunder has been replaced with Aratama, and Marco shakes his head. This can’t be the end.

“What are you doing?” someone says, and Marco looks up as the rouge familiar steps closer. Whitebeard seems to be collecting Akainu and his familiars, and the man jerks his head in the direction Ace went.

“Don’t just sit here, boy,” he says, and Marco wants to laugh. He hasn’t been a boy for many years. At least not in body. Marco has been scared for many years, scared of his own loneliness, and scared that no one would ever be able to accept him for who he is. Ace smashed those fears, and he’s still sitting here, like a child who can’t do anything.

Marco feels sick, and he picks himself up off of the ground. He has no excuse not to try and find Ace. He has to put a stop to this – he will not let this world die like this. He feels like he’s missing something still, but Marco begins running, no other option clear to him.

It’s not hard to find out where Ace is. There is a train of destruction that is unlike the rubble the lightning has caused. There is a distinct path, and it takes Marco to a familiar place. He pauses, looking over what used to be a place where he could shed some of the weight off of his shoulders, and remembers bringing Ace here before. It’s Shanks’ temple, only reduced to fallen stone and rubble. It looks a little sad, and Marco is about to turn away when he hears a groan.

He turns, heading up the few stairs that remain intact, and pales when he sees Shanks. He’s trapped between some rubble, but doesn’t seem to be harmed too much. Marco can get him out, he thinks, and he calls out to Shanks.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Shanks quips instantly, and his laughter fills Marco with relief. It will only be the end of the world when Shanks stops telling jokes.

“Let me help you out,” he says, and Shanks wraps an arm around his shoulders, hissing in pain as his leg scrapes against a fallen block of wood. With a bit more push and pull, they manage to get Shanks out, and sit on the steps, echoing every visit Marco has made to this place before.

“He won’t stop,” Shanks says, and Marco looks at him. As if he doesn’t know that already. He should go after Ace, but his feet remain cemented, and Marco stays. What use is he against such a power as Ace? Ace is the product of a god and a Bodhisattva, even with all his immortality and beads, Marco can never match up to that.

Besides, his beads can only perform a few tricks. They can catch and send out an electric pulse, but that’s it. It certainly won’t be enough to stop Ace.

“You really need to go after him,” Shanks adds on, hands brushing dirt from his legs. He sighs, and Marco shakes his head. He doesn’t want to do anything.

“This is the first time you’ll actually get to do something that proves how you feel,” Shanks says, and he looks at Marco with a soppy smile. “Don’t think about what’s best for the world or try to claw your way back to what you once had. Think about what you have now – who you have now – and ask yourself if they’re worth everything.”

Marco nods. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’ll do anything for Ace, Sabo and Luffy. He hasn’t thought about trying to find his home world for weeks now, possibly even since Ace gave him his tantō. Marco knows this, but he still can’t move. He loves Ace more than anything, but he still won’t be able to do anything. He can’t help anymore.

“I know he loves you, and he’d stop at nothing,” Shanks says, grunting as he pokes at a darkening bruise. “You’re scared, and that’s okay because it means you’re afraid of losing him.”

Realisation drops. He looks at Shanks, and his lips part, but no words escape his throat. Marco stands, and he’s running without second thought, heart beating wildly in a way that has nothing to do with his pace. He is afraid – but it’s okay for him to be afraid. He loves Ace, and there has to be a way he can fix this without hurting Ace. It’s not like Marco can die for his efforts, and he thinks he might learn to love his immortality if it means he can save Ace and this world.

There is a problem, though, and Marco soon realises he has no idea where Ace is anymore. He’s not close, but the sound of Aratama smashing the world blurs with the lightning. Marco feels panic well in his chest and he chooses a direction, heading back towards his home in hopes Ace is there.

Marco stops for breath, and that’s when he sees his saviour. Thatch has come to meet him, barking at Marco in a way he never has before, and Marco bends down to pat his head.

“Can you take me to them,” he says, and Thatch barks. Marco nods, sprinting after Thatch as he takes off down a nearby alleyway, leading them close to the centre of town.

Marco is so focused on making sure he doesn’t trip over rubble that he doesn’t notice Ace at first. He pauses when he passes Thatch, unsure what it means, and then it hits him like a tonne of bricks. Thatch has stopped because they’re there, and Marco begins looking for Ace instantly. He sees Sabo and Luffy first, in their human forms, watching Ace with worried faces as he continues on, Aratama tearing up homes and shops. They look at him as he nears, and Sabo speaks, voice wobbly with barely contained tears.

“Nothing we do can stop him,” Sabo says, shaking his head. “He hasn’t hurt us, doesn’t come close, but even us being in the way doesn’t stop him changing direction.”

“Someone’s controlling him,” Luffy says, and he crosses his arms over his chest, watching Ace raise Aratama. “I hate them.”

Marco sets a hand on Luffy’s shoulder, moving towards Ace without a word. They let him go, and Marco steps before Aratama. His mouth is dry, palms sweaty, but he has to do this, and getting in the way is the only thing he knows. He’s been given powers, and if Roger could use them to do remarkable things to protect the people he loved, so can Marco.

“Ace,” he whispers, and Aratama stills. Ace’s eyes are still not focused, but his body leans towards Marco, as if it remembers him.

“You need to stop this,” he says, and Aratama twitches. He has Ace’s attention for now, but he knows it won’t be much longer before Ace returns to destruction. “Before you came, I never realised how much I love this world.”

Marco wants to think he sees a little light return to Ace’s eyes, but he can’t be sure. He decides to lay everything out, and reaches for Ace’s free hand. It’s cold and limp by his side, and Marco rubs the skin, trying to warm Ace and bring him back from wherever he is.

“I don’t think I can ever describe how much you made me fall in love.” He laughs, and traces a circle on the back of Ace’s hand. Aratama relaxes, Ace’s grip loosening, and Marco wants to believe that this is working.

“Before you came, I wanted to leave this world. It’s too perfect, too easy, and I was full of dislike for a man who saved me and gave me a family.” Marco’s voice is tight, and he wishes he had a drink. He’ll force the words out if he has to, though, and continues with a smile. “I was scared of being happy, and scared of accepting the fact people loved me. I couldn’t accept it from Rouge and Roger, but somehow you managed the impossible.”

Ace’s hand falls from Aratama, and Marco takes it. He can feel his power well in his chest, and he does nothing to stop his beads rolling over his wrist and over Ace’s hand, effectively tying them together. It reminds Marco a little of the handfasting ceremonies he’s seen, and he thinks that maybe one day they’ll embark on that adventure together. He has more to do now, though, and knows he can make this right if he has Ace with him.

“But you showed me how far love can take you. You came here searching for your family and your belief you would find them never wavered.” Marco swallows thickly. “I respect you a lot for that, and I’m still amazed your conviction never changed.”

Ace blinks slowly, and a little colour seems to return to his cheeks. The signs spur Marco on, and he pulls Ace closer, wrapping his arms around Ace.

“That day in the field,” he begins, “is something I’ll never forget. You never backed down, never wavered, and yet you gave so much of yourself to me.”

Marco remembers Ace meeting his demands evenly. He remembers Ace telling him that he wouldn’t kill him – not that Marco had meant it in the literal sense. Ace had made it clear he loved Marco for who he was, and now Marco will do the same. Marco feels something shift inside of him, feels his powers retract for a moment before swelling, and the words come easily.

“I love you,” he says, and Marco feels the world freeze. The storm seems to pause, lightning stuck to the earth as silence surrounds them. Marco is about to pull away, to check that Sabo, Luffy and Thatch are okay, when he feels hands tighten around the back of his kimono, fingers gripping cloth as Ace holds him.

“I was lost,” Ace says shakily. Marco pulls back, just enough so he can look at Ace, and he feels overwhelmed. “You came for me, just as Roger said you would.”

Marco ignores that, electing instead to kiss Ace. He gets more teeth and awkward lips than he likes, but it’s still Ace. The kiss is perfect: it’s exactly what Marco needs, and, judging by the way Ace kisses back, it’s exactly what he needs too.

“I did this,” Ace says when they break apart, and he looks over to his brothers with a shake of his head. Marco knows the guilt he must be feeling, and he shrugs.

“You can do more,” he says, and Ace looks at him, perhaps wondering if some rubble caught the side of Marco’s head. Marco smiles, and he knows what’s been missing. He knows that he’s never accepted his role, his powers, before, and it’s only by Ace doing this that he’s been able to.

Marco’s never felt whole because he’s never accepted himself. He’s always been complete, even when he was a child and trying to find a way out because the world was too cruel. Even when he was left alone with a stranger, even when he moved to this world, even when he met Ace – Marco has always been complete. He’s needed to show that love to Ace, and that’s how Marco’s realised he’s never been missing anything.

“We can fix this,” he says, and Marco feels his power hum in agreement. He has the power to create and restore, just as Roger did, and this world was built on this power. Ace has the power too – the power to bend worlds to his will with his hammer, and together they can stop the storm and fix their home.

It’s not hard, and Marco is surprised at how little effort it is to take Ace’s hand. Ace holds Aratama out before them, the inside glowing, and Marco set his beads over Ace’s hands, letting them run over Aratama. Together, they lift the hammer and lower it gently, and the world seems to let out a deep sigh, as if it had been held underwater and only now allowed to breathe.

Marco is about to turn to Ace, to thank him and congratulate him, when the world brightens. Marco knows that it’s just for them, a tiny patch of light that is doing something to them, and as Kyoto begins to heal, Marco watches his world fade.

The place they end up is plain, if Marco’s honest. Ace looks as unimpressed as Marco feels, and he shrinks down Aratama as Marco lets his beads fade. They’ve been brought here by something, but Marco has no idea what that something might be.

“You fixed it,” a voice says, and Marco feels something brush against his leg. He starts, watching as a rabbit forms out of nowhere, followed by a monkey and a dog. They are all the same size, no larger than a baby, and Marco has the feeling that not just anyone gets to see them.

“Roger gambled when he did that,” the voice says, and Marco thinks it is coming from all three of the animals at the same time, as well as the air around them. He slides a little closer to Ace, offering him a nod of the head, not knowing what was happening either.

“It worked in the end, but it was the riskiest path,” the voice says, and the three animals form a little circle, following each other. They move their circle around Marco and Ace, peering up at them, almost in curiosity.

“I’ve watched you for a long time,” the voice says, and Marco begins to form an idea of who this is. It seems that Ace, too, has an idea, for he smiles and sits down on the floor, allowing the animals to push and shove their way onto his lap.

“They always taught me about the central plain back at the Shrine,” Ace says, lifting the monkey up. “I never thought I’d get to see it. Or the Creator himself,” he adds in afterthought.

“Joy Boy,” the Creator says. “We’re family, you should call me by my name.”

Ace grins, and Marco lets his shoulders relax. They really did it. They’ve saved their world, protected it from being ripped apart by the Shrine, awakened Marco’s powers, and helped Ace master his control on moving between worlds (Marco thinks the gate to the Holy Ground had to have come from somewhere – and Ace is the only one who could have made it, especially if he trusted in what Roger was doing). They will be able to do so much more now, and the possibilities are endless, as immortal as Marco perhaps.

“You’ve both grown into your powers,” Joy Boy says. He sounds proud, and Marco wonders what everyone else will think. They’ll have a lot to catch up on – he’ll need to go to the shop to make sure he has enough for dinner.

“It’s time you took the position offered to you,” Joy Boy continues, and Marco sees Ace look away from the animals, eyes darting around the room.

“The Mirror World should never be without its rulers,” he says, and Marco nods. He’s always known that Kyoto exists in balance, and if the Mirror World is thrown out of balance, the harmony of the 13 worlds may shatter. Roger and Rouge were supposed to rule, but Marco thinks that’s out of the question now. Rouge is confined to the Holy Ground, and Roger gave up his title years ago.

“You have to decide what you want to do, but the position is rightfully yours,” Joy Boy says, and Marco hears Ace laugh. He joins in, unable to help himself, and stands. It’s time they went home, he thinks, and while he hates to cut short the creator of the known worlds, all he really wants is to go to bed with Ace (and probably Luffy, Sabo and Thatch too, knowing that lot they’ll all be sleeping in a pile tonight).

“I think everything will be okay,” Marco says, turning towards Ace as the light around them intensifies again. They’re heading home, and Ace smiles at him, burying his head against Marco’s neck as he holds him.

“There’s one last thing we need to do,” Ace says, and Marco knows instantly what he means. He nods his head as they return to their world, and it’s not long before they’re smothered by Luffy and Sabo, tears free flowing.

Marco isn’t sure how long they spend reaffirming that they are alive and all okay, but he knows it’s time to finish things up when Ace grows quiet.

“Are we ready?” he asks, and everyone nods. There is excitement in the air, and Marco decides it’s best to hold Luffy’s hand so he doesn’t go tearing off right away. There’s a few things they need to sort out first.


	12. Present IX [Ace]

It’s easy to open the door to other worlds, Ace thinks. He smiles as he calls the energy forward, and he can feel the flicker of life in Aratama as he ask for access to the Holy Ground. He doesn’t even have the mirror – assumes Roger took it when he left this world – but he doesn’t need it anymore. Ace thinks he’ll let his parents keep it, in case they want to visit.

Luffy and Sabo flank Marco as Ace pushes the door open. He never got a great look at the Holy Ground before, and he doesn’t really have time to do so now, and he leaves the trio behind as he enlarges Aratama, giving Roger hell his only thought.

It’s part payback for stabbing him and part payback for being gone so long without even a word. Ace supposes Roger thought it was the best, but he’s clearly an idiot who does too much by himself. Just as Ace needs Marco to stop him doing stupid things (including destroying the world), Roger needs Rouge.

“You’re an idiot!” he shouts, the world around blurring as he chases after Roger. Admittedly it’s a lot of fun, and Roger is fighting back. Ace remembers fighting him as a kid, and Roger would always go easy on him, tell him he is not ready. Well, Ace is ready now, and Roger can see that too.

“All you had to do was ask! All you had to do was sit down over dinner and have a chat.” Ace pauses. He’s got a few good hits in already, and Roger looks more battered than Ace feels.

“Instead you had to be cryptic, lock away any sense I had, and make me destroy the world we all love.” Ace sets Aratama heavily on the ground, leaning on the hammer’s handle. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. He wants dinner more than anything, if he’s honest. Dinner and a good night’s sleep. Or perhaps not-so-much sleep if it’s just him and Marco.

Roger looks a little wary, but he approaches Ace slowly. Ace no longer has to look up to meet his father’s eyes, and he sighs. Their relationship won’t be perfect for a while, but they’re at a point where neither side needs to lie or hide anything from each other anymore.

“Just because you thought it was the only way doesn’t make it so,” Ace says, and Roger sighs. He looks younger, and Ace knows that years of pressure and worry are flowing off of him.

“Marco and I rule Kyōto now,” Ace says proudly, and Roger raises an eyebrow.

“You met your grandfather then,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s probably enjoyed this entire show.”

Roger opens his arms, and Ace nods. They hug, and it’s everything Ace remembers as a child and more. He can feel Roger’s pride and love in the way he shakes slightly, and Ace hopes he’s showing his father the same love. He wouldn’t have crossed worlds for just anyone, after all.

“You should stay here,” Ace says, and Roger pulls back. Ace shrinks Aratama, glancing up to see tears in his father’s eyes.

“I’d like that very much,” he admits, wiping his eyes. “All those years… At least I got to have you. She’s had nothing, absolutely nothing and-“

Ace nods. He doesn’t understand, but he can see that Rouge has been alone for so long. Ace and Marco can’t always be here, but Roger can – and should. They’ve both done their work. The Mirror World was created from their love, and now it’s Marco and Ace’s turn to sustain the world and make it grow.

They begin walking back to the others, who are grouped at what looked once to be a temple of some kind. Rouge is busy tucking flowers into Luffy’s hair, and the others are relaxed, enjoying the worlds and the stars out in the space around them.

The group still as Ace and Roger join them, looking expectedly at them.

“Can I stay?” Roger asks quickly, smile on his lips, but Ace can see the worry in his eyes. Ace wants to scoff. As if Rouge will push him away after so long. Their love is pure, and Ace knows they’re inseparable.

“Here?” Rouge asks in surprise, and Ace sees Luffy take the opportunity to put a few flowers in her hair. He smiles proudly, and Rouge turns to him, kissing his forehead.

“Yes,” Roger replies, and the word is stiff. He shifts uneasily, and Ace rolls his eyes.

“But…” Rouge looks around, frowning in confusion. “There’s nothing here,” she says, and Ace wonders if he gets his denseness from her.

“There’s you,” Roger says quietly, and Rouge’s mouth falls open, as if she really had no idea. She flushes as Luffy let out a laugh, throwing flowers in the air and standing.

It’s the signal Rouge needs, and she stands, running to Roger and Ace. They’re close enough that she can throw an arm around each of them, pulling them into a tight hug. She’s crying, and Ace finds himself welling up, tears filling his eyes. He feels ridiculous, but it’s also right. He can’t imagine standing there, surrounded by the entire 13 worlds and not crying.

“Wait for me!” Luffy shouts, and they’re joined by Sabo, Luffy and – of course – Marco. Rouge pulls them all in somehow, and it’s the best hug Ace has ever had, with everyone he loves. This is their family, their love, and he’ll always remember this moment for the rest of his life.

They part eventually, and they sit around the ruined temple, watching the stars twinkle. The planets nearby are what catch Ace’s attention, and he wonders how many he’s been to. Kyōto isn’t visible from here, at least not right now, and Ace will have to ask if the Holy Ground moves, if one day Roger and Rouge will be looking out at their world.

“You should go,” Rouge says eventually, and Ace looks over. Roger is asleep, head in her lap, and Rouge is sweeping her fingers gently through his hair. They look so content that Ace feels no regret as he stands.

“You can keep the mirror,” he says, and Rouge taps Roger’s shoulder gently. He wakes, eyes clear and alert, and relaxes when he realises where he is. “Come round any time you like.”

He knows without seeing when Marco is at his side. He’s been with Luffy and Sabo since they got here, and Ace is glad. He’s been able to spend time with Marco, but they haven’t, and if they’re staying here permanently, Ace wants them to love Marco as much as he does. And vice versa, of course.

“Marco wants us to go shopping with him,” Sabo says as he comes to stand beside Ace. He’s wearing a smirk on his lips and Ace sighs, preparing himself for it. “Now you’ll be moving into his room, he felt Luffy and I should get to sort our room out properly. He even asked if we wanted to split the room for privacy.”

Sabo liked Marco, Ace could tell. It was clear that Luffy did, but Ace had been a little worried about Sabo. He was quieter, perhaps fiercer when it came to trusting, but if Marco had won his approval then Ace knew they would all be happy.

“Thank you,” he says, pulling Sabo into a one-armed hug. “You’re the best brother anyone could ask for.”

Luffy jumps on his back, and Ace laughs as he sees the pout on Luffy’s face.

“And you, and you,” he adds. “You’re the best brothers anyone could have.”

The words settle Luffy, and he lets himself float upwards, waving down at Ace. He reaches for Sabo and pulls him upwards, waiting to head back home.

“Be careful,” Rouge says as she steps up to say goodbye. She looks sad but not regretful, and Ace promises he’ll visit at least once a week. Maybe they can do something to make the Holy Ground a little more inhabitable too – bring books and things for Rouge and Roger to do, maybe some comfortable chairs (do they even have a bed here? Ace has no idea).

“I will,” Ace says, and she beams at him, kissing his cheek. She is warm and more than anything Ace imagined his mother would be like. He’s glad he found her, glad that she is his mother, and he’ll do everything he can to protect her and make her happy.

Roger’s parting is more familiar, and Ace makes a joke about how he’s glad they can actually say goodbye this time. It’s maybe a bit cruel, as he doesn’t laugh straight away, but then Roger seems to catch onto Ace’s held-back laugh, and he shakes his head.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, and looks just past Ace’s shoulder. “Of both of you.”

They stand before a planet as Ace summons the portal. As it forms, Ace looks down at the planet and wonders how many people are there. How many love and are loved? How many look up at the stars and wonder what is out there? They will never know what Ace knows, and he links his hand with Marco’s. There are so many turns he could have made that would have taken Ace away from this moment, and he is glad for his mistakes, even if they could have cost him something terrible.

“Ready to go home?” Ace asks, and Marco squeezes his hand. They have a lot to do when they get back, but Ace knows they are already well on their way to fixing everything. He’ll never need to chase after the ones he loves, never have to desperately travel through portals, hoping to find where he belongs, and Ace smiles as the portal fully forms, their door home a mere step away.

“Let’s go,” Marco says, and Ace nods, smiling as he pushes the portal open, the familiar bright-blue skies and warm sun of Kyōto greeting him.

Everything will be just fine.

.

It’s a few months later that Ace wakes. He checks the clock first and holds back a groan. It’s way too early for him to be up, but Ace doesn’t think he’ll be able to get back to sleep. It’s not too far off a decent waking hour, though it’s not often he actually gets up at a time like that. Marco is different, however, and while Ace prefers to work into the night, he’ll be up with the early birds, breakfast sitting lovingly on the table for when Ace does emerge.

He hears the flush of the toilet and thinks that’s probably why he woke. Ace listens as someone pads back to their room, and decides it must be Sabo. Luffy tends to stomp his way around, though he has no idea how heavy-footed he is when he chooses to walk instead of fly. Sabo’s more self-aware.

They decided to keep a shared room, even when Marco made it clear he’d be happy to renovate. Ace sometimes spends the nights with them – and Marco joins them every now and then too – usually when they’ve spent a long day working, the Shrine breathing down their necks more than ever before.

The Shrine wants an everlasting portal, just like the connections to the other worlds. Ace has been able to hold them off with Marco and Whitebeard’s help, but the council are wanting more control. There’s only one town in this world, but Ace thinks the Shrine wants more, and he knows Marco’s as angry about it as he is.

Ace doesn’t blame the Shrine too much for their shrewdness. He did, technically, defect from them and aid in the death of their previous Head Priest. He also now wields the power to walk between worlds easily, his partner having the power of creation, so he understand why they want a little more control over Kyōto. Whitebeard had taken up his previous position of Head Priest, saying that everyone had found their places and it was time he returned to his. Rayleigh had gone with him and while the two of them do everything they can to help Marco and Ace, their efforts are growing more and more futile as the weeks turn.

Those are thoughts for the middle of the day, however, and Ace shifts, rolling onto his side. Marco’s back is against his, but he feels Marco’s leg shift in his sleep, leg tucking between Ace’s. Ace has always delighted in the revelation that Marco is a cuddler. He’s warm, and Ace sticks an arm out of the covers, closing his eyes and smiling.

They don’t have work today. Though, what Marco and Ace do isn’t really work. They sort of listen to complaints – if there are any – and either putter around the laboratories helping Izō and Sabo think of bizarre ideas or walk through the town. Sometimes they help fix things (since Ace had destroyed everything, the healing of this world is a bit slower, but Ace thinks it’s a fair trade as they’re connected to this land, Marco’s powers tied to it. The world is a little slow as it bypasses through Marco first. The world only healed itself because Roger’s power hadn’t been fully accepted by Marco), sometimes they just visit and talk to people, but most of the time they enjoy each other’s company. They’ve become explorers, charting the world and imagining a time where other towns could be made, in case the Shrine does get its way.

Ace sighs after a while, sleep still evading him. The sun isn’t even up, and won’t be for a while, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s bored, if he’s honest, but he can hardly roll over and demand Marco pay him attention. Well, he can, and probably through creative means, but they’ve got a long day ahead of them.

It’s family day. While Ace loves it, it is tiring, and he knows he’ll end up crawling into any room with a bed tonight and sleeping. Roger and Rouge are set for Ace to pick them up at lunch, and Marco will be waiting for Whitebeard and Rayleigh at the Temple just after. After that, it’s a whirlwind of a day. They’ll pick a place to have a picnic lunch, Marco the provider of the food, and they’ll return to the house later, drink and eat and probably play games or something silly. They’ll talk and remind themselves that there is an entire room of people who love each other, of people who are willing to cross entire worlds just to be with each other.

Eventually, in the early hours of the morning most likely, they’ll all return home, with at least half an hour of hugs, kisses and farewells, to be repeated the following week. It’s a tradition, and Ace loves it.

The bed shifts, and Ace feels Marco roll over, throwing an arm over his stomach. Ace shuffles back and smiles, and he knows Marco is half-awake.

“Love you,” Marco mumbles, and he’s more sleep-talking than anything, but Ace still feels the hot-and-cold feeling of excitement he gets whenever he hears Marco say the words. He slip his arm back under the covers and lays his hand a little awkwardly over Marco’s, bringing it up to his chest until he is cuddling it.

“Love you too,” he says, and Marco’s hand entwines their fingers as much as he can. All the thoughts he had before slip from Ace’s mind, and he feels himself drifting, sleep coming easily this time.

The next time Ace awakes, sunlight is shining weakly through a gap between the window and curtains. Ace lets his eyes drift half-closed and he smiles as the sun shines on the table, illuminating the frame he’d picked up from the station ages ago. They have a similar photograph in the living room, but this was the first and it is precious to Ace. It’s a little cramped, and Ace remembers pushing Luffy’s face away from his and trying not to squish too much against Marco, but it’s the best photo Ace has ever owned.

It’s them, their entire family, crowded together. Thatch is centrepiece, smiling in his doggy-way and tail half-blurred as it had been wagging, with the rest of them filling the space around him. Sabo and Luffy had stood either side of Marco and Ace, Rouge and Roger on Ace’s side and Whitebeard and Rayleigh the other. Everyone was smiling, and every time Ace looks at the photo he feels content. He knows that no matter what happens, these are the people he loves, and because they love him, he can do anything.

Though at the moment, Ace is just happy to lie in, wrapped up in Marco’s arms as the birds begin their song outside.


End file.
